


Dead Men's Tales

by imadra_blue



Category: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon - Video Game, Drama, Gen, Gen Fic, M/M, Mystery, POV Third Person, Post-Canon, Romance, Slash, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-21
Updated: 2010-11-22
Packaged: 2017-10-13 07:57:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/134954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imadra_blue/pseuds/imadra_blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the adventure of a man who should be dead, but lives.  Five years after the end of <i>Final Fantasy XIII</i>, Cid Raines awakens on Pulse, confused and lost.  He soon encounters Jihl Nabaat and Hope Estheim, whose destinies are now tethered to his own.  Cid soon sets out to confront his new fal'Cie Master, Asura.  He grows intimate with Hope and comes to understand Jihl, even as the mystery of their fates deepens and snarls. Here, dead men do tell tales, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. After Life

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning(s):** Spoilers for entire game.  
>  **Disclaimer:** _Final Fantasy XIII_ and all its characters are property of Square Enix Co., Ltd. No copyright infringement is intended.  
>  **Notes:** Many thanks to the generous and awesome Lassarina and Bri for beta reading. All mistakes that remain are my own. Concrit is always welcome on any of my fics. For any who read my Hardmode story, "Demos Oneiroi", you might notice a few similar concepts, but this story is completely separate. I think of them as fraternal twins, both different, yet born in quick succession from the same basic materials.  
>  **Art:** By **Nan** , who did beautiful color art in Ch. 2 and Ch. 6.

When Cid Raines awoke, he found himself in a ruined husk of a building with no recollection of how he arrived there. He inhaled and immediately regretted it as the dry air wracked his lungs. He coughed for several moments until he adjusted to this harsh source of oxygen. Weak sunlight poured in through empty windows, struggling against the darkness inside and leaving Cid disoriented.

After a moment of blinking around at cracked walls, he reflected that how he ended up there was less important than where he was. He searched his memory, but the last thing he remembered was turning to crystal after his defeat at the hands of the Pulse l'Cie. That had been in the Fifth Ark, but this was definitely not the Fifth Ark. It did not seem to be much of anywhere.

Cid tried to stand, only to discover this was not a wise course of action. The room did not just spin--it did the full five-act performance of the Pandemona Tango. Relieved that he appeared to have no dinner to vomit up, he tried to reach a compromise with his bellicose equilibrium by sitting. The room slowly finished its tango as Cid focused on his heartbeat. It seemed his only reliable bodily function at the moment, offering a comfortable and steady rhythm. He leaned back against the wall behind him, wondering where the hell Barthandelus had moved him.

A loud cracking noise drowned out the sound of Cid's heartbeat. Within a second, part of the wall gave way behind him. He felt a rush of air and movement, shortly accompanied by a stabbing pain through his skull. He found himself lying on his back, staring up at a sunset-streaked sky.

"Well," he told the sky as irritation flashed through him, "I appear to have wound up in the exact same position I awoke in: on my back. Once again, I am faced with the futility of my actions. At this rate, I can only conclude that I should embrace nihilism as a philosophy."

Cid sighed, even more irritated that there was no one around to appreciate his sarcasm. He sucked in a breath of stale air and struggled upwards, ignoring the jabbing pains in his head. After sitting still for a few minutes, breathing carefully and focusing on the sound of his heartbeat, the pain subsided. He considered casting a healing spell, but the idea of tapping into magic seemed far too daunting, considering that he could not even stand. Instead, Cid glanced around, finding that the wall had given way to reveal a lifeless city quite literally shattered to pieces. Cliffs rose on all sides, topped with hardy green plants, reminding Cid of sitting in an uncovered grave.

Nothing seemed familiar. He thought he had seen every part of Cocoon there was to see, but apparently he had thought wrong. He sat in the middle of a ruined wasteland, surrounded by nothing. _Almost nothing_ , he thought, as an unearthly shriek filled the air, and the shadows suddenly seemed to move. Cid started, his eyes growing wide.

The shadow fluttered out from around the corner, revealing something with spindly legs and wings made of corrupted geometric shapes. In its chest burned a stone as red as blood, and a strange noise emitted from it, breaking apart sound and putting it back together the wrong-side up.

A Cie'th.

Cid reached for a sword he did not wear and tried to stand with legs that would not move. The Cie'th darted towards him, shrieking a death knell, and he prepared himself for the worst, as every good soldier should. He found a rock near him a rock, a paltry piece of stone, but he picked it up. He never could stand the thought of dying without putting up a fight.

A Ruin spell suddenly enveloped the creature, burning the air around it. The creature writhed and screamed, turning around to face its attacker. Cid could hardly see anything as the creature swooped and dove, sounding almost as if it were cackling. But the magic of his opponent seemed too much for it, and a few Aeros left it Staggered. A loud _thwok_ resounded through the air, soon followed by many more. It almost sounded like a machine gun--or simply someone who was very fast with a blunt object. The Cie'th imploded under the attack, leaving the dusty ground scored.

"Damn things," Jihl Nabaat said, stepping towards Cid. She tapped her baton in her hand and studied him from behind her glasses. She did not wear a PSICOM uniform, but instead more practical leathers-- practical except for those heels she always seemed to favor.

"Well, this is a surprise," Cid commented, tensing. He clutched his rock, wondering if he was better or worse off than when the Cie'th attacked him.

"Really? One would think you'd have seen this coming."

"No, I can't say I'm good at predicting being rescued from Cie'th by dead women."

"Dead women." Jihl snickered, reminding Cid of their academy days, when she had snickered every time he gave the wrong answer to their instructor. "I'm no more dead than you, Primarch."

"Primarch?" Cid arched a brow. "Is this a joke?"

"Oh, no," Jihl said, her smile offering a promise of sharp objects thrust into tender spots. "I would never joke with the man who helped destroy Cocoon."

"Destroy Cocoon?" Cid's head spun, as if he had fallen again. "I tried--" He did not know what he had tried. Not enough.

"Let's talk elsewhere." Jihl gestured at the ruined city. "The Haerii Archaeopolis is crawling with those things, and worse."

"The Haerii what?"

Jihl smirked. "It's like having my own personal echo." She bent down to yank Cid up by the elbow. His body screamed with pain at the movement, but he kept his face expressionless. He had spent four years in the academy with Jihl Nabaat. As with any predator, he knew better than to show her weakness.

 

. . .

 

Jihl pulled, and Cid stumbled. He discovered that he could still walk, albeit without any dignity, and he unfortunately had to rely on Jihl for guidance as the world wobbled. To his relief, his headache had reduced to a dull ache. Thirst, hunger, and the longing for a hot bath likely distracted him from the pain. Either that, or Jihl's jibe about him helping to destroy Cocoon had landed its mark better than he thought. He could not even explain why it bothered him--when he had turned to crystal, Cocoon was still very much intact.

Jihl seemed unconcerned as she sat, but she had used that trick to hide her true feelings since their academy days. Though she had made attempts to keep her outfit neat and clean, unmistakable discolorations and patches left her looking shabbier than Cid had ever seen her. Considering that his own uniform was stained and torn, he had no basis to feel superior.

"I thought Barthandelus destroyed you for the sake of privacy," Cid commented as they walked.

"Who told you that?" Jihl asked. Her fingers dug painfully into Cid's arm. The fact that she did not stumble as she dragged a grown man significantly larger than her along made Cid feel rather inadequate. That was a rather special talent of Jihl's.

"Barthandelus."

"Who was Barthandelus, again?"

Cid resisted the urge to grind his teeth. "The bloody Primarch."

"Which one?"

"The only one we've had!"

Jihl's voice hardened. "There's been two in recent memory. I presume you mean your predecessor?"

"My what?" Cid stumbled again. His ankles ached. "I was never Primarch, dammit. Stop saying that."

"As you like. In any case, I am clearly as alive as you."

"I was told differently. Dysley really was a lying bastard, like most fal'Cie."

Once, such a remark would have earned Cid a baton across the temple. Now, Jihl's face went blank. Cid could tell she was hiding something, but he wondered what. Anger, frustration, disappointment, sadness--these were emotions that Jihl had rarely expressed in all the years that he had known her. Not that they had ever been particularly close. They had spent their academy years together in Unit 57-B--along with Yaag Rosch--but their friendship had been as ephemeral as a Fire spell in a blizzard. Yet, Jihl and Yaag were the only friends he truly recalled having--Rygdea had always been his subordinate, not his friend. After graduation, Cid went into the Guardian Corps, and Jihl and Yaag into PSICOM. Little love had been lost between them by the end, especially given his vocal resentment of the fal'Cie.

They approached what looked like a small camp. Jihl dumped Cid by an unlit campfire, which she quickly rectified with a Fire spell. The warmth seeped through his torn uniform and help eased his aches and pains. He stared up at Jihl. "You know. I'm beginning to suspect that you're not casting magic from a Manadrive."

"How clever of you."

Cid could not repress a smirk. "So, how does it feel to be a l'Cie?"

"I don't know, why don't you tell me?" The fire reflected of Jihl's glasses, making her eyes impossible to see.

Cid did not know a word strong enough to cover his initial resentment of becoming a Sanctum l'Cie, so he kept silent. He glanced down at his gloved right hand, which covered his l'Cie brand. He pulled the glove off to find a strange brand etched onto his hand, one filled with swirls and flourishes much unlike Barthandelus's simple, blocky brand. This one was elegant and intricate. Cid stretched the glove back on and put the curiosity from his mind. What did it matter whose brand it was? He was still a doomed creature.

"Would you like some food?" Jihl asked, in that peculiar tone of hers that somehow managed to be both polite and mocking simultaneously. "I'm afraid all I have are military rations, though."

"Rations will be fine. You forget that I was in the Guardian Corps, Jihl. We never ate so well as PSICOM."

Jihl tossed a canteen and a pack of rations before Cid, then set upon her own. Cid nodded his head in thanks, even though she was no longer watching him, then took the canteen and quickly gulped down the water. He licked his lips again, relieved to find moisture on them.

Cid tore open the food pack and glanced around. "So what is this Haerii Archaeopolis?" he asked, and took a bite of the rectangular-shaped brown block. He coughed, but managed to choke it down. Somehow, he had forgotten how disgusting military rations were.

Jihl took a bite of a greenish block of food. Once, she would have complained about how revolting her meal was, but she seemed rather stoic about it now. "The remnants of an ancient Pulse City. This is all they have here, really. Ghost towns, just like this."

"Pulse!" Cid blinked. "We're on Pulse?" He glanced around, but his surroundings did not resemble the fiery, toxic hell that Pulse had been described as. Instead, he appeared to be atop one of the cliffs that overlooked the Haerii Archaeopolis below. Green plants grew around him, and insects buzzed. The dry air seemed perfectly breathable now that his lungs had adjusted. Though Cie'th crawled over the archaeopolis below, life existed here.

Jihl snickered. "We're going to have to work on your obsession for echoing me, Raines. Of course we're on Pulse. Cocoon stands as a monument to the way of life you helped destroy. Most of the people survived, but not Cocoon itself. Without the fal'Cie, it's a wasteland, useful only for scavenging."

"The l'Cie?"

"Were as responsible as you, from what I understand. I wasn't there to witness this, of course."

"Because you were dead. Or playing dead."

Jihl snickered again, but did not respond as she finished her rations.

"Why are you helping me, Jihl?"

"Lieutenant Colonel Nabaat will do."

"I prefer Jihl. It annoys you more."

Jihl glared. "I'm looking for the Mechagony. And you're going to help me find it."

"The Mechagony? Where the fal'Cie were born?" Cid blinked. He had learned about the Mechagony years ago, while researching fal'Cie in books forbidden to humans. It did not seem wise to tell Jihl that, however. "Why do you think I know anything about that?"

"Because you used to be a Sanctum l'Cie. You knew more about them than even than I did. The Sanctum fal'Cie hid it before they left for Cocoon, so the Pulse fal'Cie don't know where it is. You may be the only creature left in all existence to know of it."

Cid considered his options. Jihl had never possessed any great love for him, and even if he told her where the Mechagony was, she might kill him. However, if he led her on a wild chocobo chase, it could offer him a chance to escape. "Very well. You have to find the key to open the Mechagony first--and that key will tell you where it leads. I only know the name of the key's location."

"I know the locations fairly well by now, so it will work out beautifully."

Cid thought of all the ancient tomes he had read about Pulse during his research on the fal'Cie and quickly pulled a location's name from his memory. "The Faultwarrens."

"How convenient." Jihl gestured behind Cid. "We're right next door. We'll leave tomorrow morning."

Cid cursed himself internally. He might not be strong enough to put up a decent fight by the time they got there. "I see." He glanced back at Jihl. "Do you know how I got here?"

Jihl snickered again. The more she did that, the more Cid wanted to grind her face into the dirt. "You don't know? Well, I shan't ruin the surprise. You can figure it out yourself."

"Can you at least tell me why you call me Primarch?"

"All I know is that after I was--" She paused and turned her face to the side. "--removed from duty, you were made Primarch. You failed to protect Cocoon, and under your watch, Pulse attacked us. The Pulse l'Cie destroyed Eden, and with it, Cocoon."

Cid fell silent. He did not know if she told the truth or not, but it sounded perfectly in line with what he had known of Barthandelus's plans.

Jihl stood. "Tomorrow, we'll head to the Faultwarrens. For your sake, I hope you're not lying." She moved next to Cid and slapped handcuffs on his wrists. The handcuffs hummed softly from their small Manadrive, which produced a constant Fog effect on the wearer--a l'Cie special, PSICOM had called them. Cid's headache returned, and his thoughts took on the substance of mist every time he even considered a spell.

"Your trust touches me deeply," he said.

"As well it should." Jihl smiled and lay down beside him. "I hope you still only like boys, Raines, because if you get any ideas while I sleep, we'll be eating human testicles for breakfast."

Cid sighed and lay down, facing the campfire instead of her. Somehow, he always seemed to find himself in some ridiculous mess. It was his special gift. Some people danced, others sang, and Cid found trouble.

 

 _To be continued…_


	2. The Funeral Procession

The next morning, Cid woke early. He had been in the military too long, for he awoke at the same hour every day, an hour before dawn. Jihl seemed to possess the same quirk, for she rose with him. Breakfast was a quick, silent affair. When Jihl hauled him up, Cid found standing much easier than the day before. He could walk with the same military precision he had always walked in--a pace that matched Jihl's own.

Jihl grew tense as they approached the Faultwarrens. The dusty air had turned moist, and plants grew thicker and more vibrant here. The temperature had risen, too. Cid found Pulse's climate baffling--they could not be more than ten miles from the Haerii Archaeopolis. This could not be natural.

"What does this key look like?" Jihl asked. "Titan doesn't have it, does he?"

"It's a crystal key, as long as my hand," Cid lied. Though the handcuffs were not tight, the hum of the Manadrive made his wrists ache. "And who's Titan?"

"Him."

Cid glanced up and fell immediately silent. A fal'Cie larger than any mountain towered in the distance. Colossal seemed too weak an adjective for such a creature. His bulky shape vaguely resembled that of a human's, and glowing orange lines had been etched across his metallic skin. As they watched, the fal'Cie reached down to pluck a large animal from the ground--some sort of oretoise, no less--and swallowed it. Cid's mouth dropped open.

Jihl tapped his chin up to close his mouth. "You can see why Titan's possession of the key would be a problem?"

"Ah, yes. But, er, fortunately, I don't think he has it."

"Hmph." Jihl smiled a little as she walked through narrow passage leading towards Titan. "In my last journey here, I discovered that he seems to control the evolution and development of all the creatures here. Most of the other fal'Cie terraform, but this one is interested in survival of the fittest. You can enter his lands if you're strong. And I am strong."

"Mm."

Jihl jerked her head up at the hulking fal'Cie. "I never thought fal'Cie could grow so large. Not even the Pompa Sancta hinted at anything so big as Titan, did it?"

"No," Cid said, unable to keep his gaze off Titan's distant form.

"Of course you would know. Weren't you from Nautilus? Your parents performed in the parade there, yes? You never seemed like the son of entertainers. I had initially thought your family would be military, through and through, like mine."

Cid tore his gaze from Titan and fixed it on Jihl. "You're coming dangerously close to small talk, Jihl. Is the disclosure of my background pertinent?"

"I suppose not." Jihl turned away and shook her long mane of golden hair. They turned a corner and a large disk-shaped object rose up. It appeared made of some sort of reflective stone that formed an arced ring. Upon the arc, a crystalline shape that bore a human-like face jutted from it.

Cid involuntarily took a step backwards. "The hell?"

"This is a Cie'th Stone." Jihl smirked. "I see there's quite a lot I have to explain."

 

. . .

 

Cid instantly disliked travel by Cie'th Stone. Invasive magic tingled throughout his body, as if he someone had just cast a weak Thunder on him. After a moment, it felt like every inch of him was split apart then put back together again at another location--which was likely how the teleport was accomplished.

Jihl's gaze was as cold as Snow's Shiva Sisters. "Where is the key, Raines?" she asked sweetly.

"Likely around here someplace." Cid glanced down a vine-shrouded stone pass. "Let's check down here."

"You first."

"Naturally." Cid sighed and started walking down the pass.

Jihl hunted down a few marks--an unruly pack of amam that apparently satisfied her payment for the Cie'th Stone teleport. It grated his pride to realize how helpless he was with her Manadrive handcuffs on him. He could not defend himself against attacks. Helplessness was something he had only experienced once before, when he watched Dysley transform into Barthandelus and brand him a l'Cie.

Fighting alone had it costs, for the succession of battles appeared to wear on Jihl. Sweat left her blouse clinging to her shapely form. Any other man would likely have been impressed. Cid, however, only worried about how many more amam there might be roaming the area.

"Down there," Jihl ground out, she gestured at a narrow pass to the left, dressed in vines. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand.

"If you'd like to switch places, just let me know," Cid quipped as he marched towards the pass. He braced himself for the worse.

Neither fearsome beast nor mobile flora awaited him. Instead, a young man stood up rather quickly. The youth appeared remarkably familiar, but Cid could not quite place him. He bore unusual silver hair, bound back in a ponytail, and clear green eyes. He had a pretty face, marred only by the anger in his eyes.

"You!" the youth cried. 

The boy's face finally clicked into Cid's memory. Hope Estheim, the youngest Pulse l'Cie in Lightning's group. He had grown so much that Cid barely recognized him. Cid could not even begin to fathom why Hope was there--mostly because Jihl had caught up.

"Well, isn't this the quaint little family reunion?" Jihl asked with a wide smile.

"You're alive, too?" Hope demanded. He reached behind him and pulled out a boomerang, which he opened with a flick of his wrist. "I'm not doing it this time. You can't make me. I'd rather turn into a Cie'th!"

"Idiot, I'm not here to--" Jihl cried, but Hope interrupted her halfway through with a Blizzaga spell. The chill of it spread across the pass. Cid ducked away, thoroughly confused.

Jihl slid back on the icy ground, and her glasses frosted over. She fired a Ruin spell back at Hope and ran towards him with her baton. He wisely fired off Haste and Protect before dodging her rapid strikes.

Cid blinked and realized he needed to take advantage of the situation. "Nabaat!" he cried, holding out his handcuffed hands. "Unlock me. I'll help you."

Jihl glanced at him, then yelped as Hope's Thundaga struck her. Her hair smoked and she yanked her glasses off. Lightning still raced across the metal rims when she dropped them on the ground.

"You have to be tired from hunting all those marks by yourself, Nabaat. This boy knows his magic."

"Fine!" Jihl flung a small metal key at Cid. "Just hurry up!"

Cid caught the key and quickly undid his handcuffs. The ache in his wrists immediately ceased once he unlocked the cuffs. They hit the dirt, but when Cid glanced up, Hope glared at him. A Firaga spell built around his hand, and a burning smell filled the air.

"Watch out behind you," Cid told the boy.

Hope glanced back, just in time to avoid Jihl's Ruinga. He glanced at Cid in question, then shot his Firaga back at Jihl. It hit the warren wall behind her, burning vines where it struck and scoring the stone.

Jihl held out a hand, glowing silver with Ruin, and Hope held out his, crackling with Thunder. They stood at a face-off, completely balanced. Hope's magic outclassed hers, but she was stronger. Their speed matched.

"You're not going to help me, are you, Raines?" Jihl asked.

"Sorry, Jihl." Cid crossed his arms. "The boy's a l'Cie. I wouldn't want to interfere with PSICOM jurisdiction. Protocol and all."

Jihl flashed her teeth, not unlike the amam she had fought earlier. "And there's no key to the Mechagony here, is there?"

"You see, that's why you always were at the top of our class. You're so clever."

"Bastard." Jihl tilted her head and studied Hope. "I'm going to back out of here, and then pretend this didn't happen."

"Fine by me," Hope ground out. "What about him?"

"Keep him. I never liked him much, anyways." Jihl snatched her glasses up from the ground and started to back up towards the entrance, still holding her glowing hand out towards Hope. "How is Mr. Katzroy doing?" she asked with an arched brow.

"Better than you, apparently. All of his friends stuck by him." Hope replied, his eyes like green lasers.

Jihl's face went as blank as a broken computer screen. She paused at the entrance to the narrow passage. "All of them except for you, apparently," she snapped, then glanced at Cid. "I don't know why you're bothering. It's not as if there's any redemption for people like us, Raines. We're all doomed." And with that, she disappeared.

Hope glared at Cid. "You. Get lost, too."

"What if I don't want to?"

"Fine, I'll get lost, then." Hope started to back up along the passageway. "If you try to attack, I'll freeze your blood solid with Blizzaga."

"Noted."

Hope had only just turned the corner when Cid heard him cry out in surprise. There was a rather vicious cracking noise. Cid winced, but shrugged. What was any of this to him? He had won his freedom, and that was all that mattered.

Yet, when he started to walk away, a strange pang stabbed through his gut. It took him a moment to recognize the emotion: guilt. It was not one he experienced often. His military training had drummed out most of his pangs of regret.

With a sigh, Cid turned around and warily followed Hope's passage down the path. He found an aperture half-covered with torn vines and a bit of Hope's clothing. Cid gingerly stepped to the edge of the hole and peered down, but saw only more torn vines. It appeared as if they had naturally obscured the hole, at least until Hope fell in. Cid swept the vines aside to find Hope lying on rocks several feet down, one leg bent in an awkward position. Blood dripped from his forehead, and he seemed either unconscious or dead. Using the vines as leverage, Cid climbed down and examined the youth. A quick touch to his jugular revealed a pulse, albeit a weak one.

"You managed to stalemate the top graduate of Cocoon's military academy, but forgot to look where you were going. I see you're one for irony," Cid commented. He sighed and straightened Hope's broken leg out before casting a few Cure spells. Hope cried out, but did not awake. Magic could only cure so much.

In for a gil, in for ten more. After bothering to heal him, he could hardly leave the youth behind for one of the voracious monsters that lived in the Faultwarrens. Cid gently took Hope into his arms. The boy felt as light as a child. Though taller than he had been at fourteen, he seemed no heavier.

Cid reflected on Jihl's parting words and stared down at the delicate-looking youth in his arms. He glanced up through the aperture, past the warren walls, up at the blue sky. A blue sky created not by Phoenix's whims, but by that of nature. Cid had once dreamt of freeing Cocoon from fal'Cie rule, but instead became their slave. For a brief moment, Hope and his friends had given Cid purpose and motivation to save Cocoon again. Cocoon apparently no longer existed, but Pulse offered life and freedom. Even if he was still doomed as a l'Cie, he had at least lived to see his dream come true, partially in thanks to the boy in his arms.

"I disagree, Jihl," he told the sky. "I think redemption is right here."

 

 _To be continued…_


	3. Dead Men Walking

After finding a sheltered area inside of the Faultwarrens, atop a rocky outcropping, Cid laid his cloak on the ground and tried to make Hope comfortable atop it. Hope did not appear ready to wake for some time, so Cid explored the area. The sun dipped low in the horizon, orange and heavy with its impending somnolence. He encountered only a few borgbears, which he dispatched alone. He found it oddly invigorating to destroy things again.

A small pool fed by a gentle waterfall offered clean and refreshing water. Cid discovered the cupped shell of some long dead aquatic beast by the water's edge and cleaned it in the pool. Once filled with water, he carefully brought it back to the still unconscious Hope. As he dripped water into Hope's mouth, Hope awoke, blinking green eyes in obvious confusion. Cid sat back and set the cupped shell to the side. "Welcome back to the land of the living."

Hope's eyes immediately narrowed. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to hydrate you. Water is important to staying alive. You're welcome, by the way."

Hope sat up and winced. "What happened?"

"You fell into a vine-covered hole." Cid stood up. "You might wish to watch where you're going in the future. If I were Jihl, I would have left you there."

"Thanks for the tip," Hope grumbled. He pulled up his trouser leg to examine his wounded leg. Thanks to Cid's Cure spells, only bruising and a small abrasion remained. He then pulled up his shirt to examine the bruising remaining from where a rock had pierced his side.

It would have been polite for Cid to look away, yet it was hard not to look at the boy's bare belly. Though he had already seen it while casting Cure spells, Hope's animation changed the sight entirely. Aside from the purple bruises, the boy's skin looked remarkably smooth and unmarred. Cid's fingers tingled with the remembrance of Hope's soft skin. Clearly, it had been far too long since he had enjoyed such distractions, for it was harder than usual to stow his imagination.

Hope dropped his shirt back down. "Why did you help me, then?"

"No one else appeared available to do so in my place." It was harsh, but Cid could not help himself. He could have explained that he felt guilty, that he wished to do something right for once, but all of those responses sounded trite, even in his own head. Perhaps he only saved Hope because he enjoyed looking at his pretty face.

Hope looked away.

Cid sighed. "I know you have no reason to trust me. I lied to you once before. I even tried to kill you. But there's little point in that now." He gestured at the Pulsian landscape, large and teeming with life. "You've already destroyed Cocoon."

"No, we didn't." Hope's eyes seemed alight with zeal. "We destroyed Orphan. But Fang and Vanille saved Cocoon before it fell. They saved all of us. Yes, some people died in the fall. And yes, all the fal'Cie died. But most people in Cocoon survived. They just don't live there anymore."

"Then how is it that you're not a Cie'th or a crystal?"

"We were, but Fang and Vanille freed us." Hope rubbed his left wrist. "Everyone was freed."

"Everyone?" Cid glanced around. "What of the Cavalry?"

"You don't know?"

Cid glanced back at Hope. "That would be implied by my question, yes."

Hope bowed his head and fell quiet for a long moment. "They were all turned to Cie'th when they entered Orphan's Cradle. I think they all died in the fall."

Cid felt heavy and old then, though he had known he would never be able to live up to his men's expectations while branded by a fal'Cie. He had betrayed them long before they died, yet the knowledge of their death only widened the pit of regret that seemed lodged in his chest. "How did this happen?" he asked.

Hope scowled. "You have no memories of Barthandelus bringing you back as his puppet and making you Primarch? Or of the Cavalry killing you?"

"Of what?" Cid stepped back, feeling as if stabbed. "I remember only turning to crystal after we battled. I was never Primarch. The Cavalry did not kill me."

Hope said nothing for a long moment. "But that is what we saw, and what we were told. By Barthendelus." He glanced up. "Maybe it was a fal'Cie trick," he offered.

"Maybe." Cid picked up the cupped shell and took a sip of the water, then passed it to Hope. "I don't know."

Hope studied the cupped shell, then swigged the liquid down in three large gulps. "Nabaat is gone?"

"She is. You know, I am fairly certain Barthandelus killed her. How is it that she lived?"

Hope set the cupped shell to the side. "Oh, there's ways to get around death. She probably interested a fal'Cie."

"A fal'Cie." Cid crossed his arms. "And where are your friends, the other Pulse l'Cie? Oerba Yun Fang, Snow Villiers, Lightning, and the rest?"

Hope glanced up. "Fang and Vanille are crystals. The rest--" He snatched up the cupped shell and then flung it against the ground. It cracked and shattered, leaking out a few drops of liquid that Hope had neglected. "--I don't know. We parted ways a year ago."

"A year." Cid studied Hope. The youth's hair fell past his shoulders, and he no longer bore the softened, blurred look of a child, for all his delicate appearance. "How long has it been since I turned to crystal?"

Hope drew his knees up and hugged them. "Five years."

"Five years." Cid felt dizzy again and leaned against the wall. "So long."

Hope studied him for a long moment, his gaze more intense than any nineteen-year-old boy's had a right to be. "We shouldn't stay here. I can lead you to a relatively safe town. It only has a small PSICOM presence."

"A town?"

"Built by the Cocoon survivors. They're not going to like you much. They blame you as much as we l'Cie for Cocoon's fall, but if you keep your face covered, they won't know who you are. You can get supplies and go about your business."

"All right. Thank you for your help." Cid nodded. "I appreciate it."

Hope looked away. "I'm only returning the favor. Don't be too grateful. I haven't forgotten what you've done--even before you became Primarch."

"Right." Cid stood, stung. "We'll leave whenever you're ready, then."

 

. . .

 

On Hope's suggestion, Cid stripped his uniform to its basics. He wore only his gray trousers with his white tunic and boots, removed of all identifying marks. He kept his layered cloak and pulled up the hood as Hope advised. He felt naked without his armor, but the important thing was that he looked like any other man now, instead of the infamous Cid Raines.

Hope apparently knew how to travel in style on Pulse--if by 'travel in style,' one meant allowing their entire body to be pulled apart by petrified Cie'th and reconstructed in an entirely different location. Cid held his stomach and tried to stave off the wave of nausea passing over him. Cid enjoyed using magic--the tingle of its flow often felt strangely cathartic when he cast a spell--but magic was not his preferred mode of transportation.

When they arrived at a place Hope called the "Archylte Steppe," the bright sunlight made Cid's eyes water. He pulled down his hood to protect his eyes. Beside him, Hope shaded his eyes with a hand and looked out across the horizon. Cid blinked a bit and followed Hope's gaze as his eyes adjusted.

What he saw took his breath away. Never had he imagined Pulse would be so green and vibrant, filled with life beyond Cocoon's meager imagination. Winged creatures sailed across an impossibly blue sky. Towering seed pods thrust into the clouds. Plateaus covered with lush flora rose ahead of them. Powerful oretoises lumbered across the fields, shaking the ground as they moved. Creatures of more variety than any zoologist had contemplated roamed the earth. "It's amazing," Cid whispered.

Hope turned to him, his expression neutral. His green eyes seemed very murky beneath his hood. He turned away after a moment. "We have to walk to Yaschas Massif through Vallis Media. PSICOM destroyed the Cie'th Stone there, and using Waystones in front of them is a quick way to get them breathing down your neck." He started walking toward what appeared to be a canyon pass. Cid followed.

Vallis Media's shade was welcome after the blinding brightness of the Archylte Steppe. The air felt cooler there, and Cid found it easier to breathe. What few monsters appeared could be dispatched with a quick spell, and Cid relaxed as they walked. Hope paused by a neglected campsite. He drew the hood of his blue jacket down, as if to hide his face, despite standing in the shade. Cid kept quiet, wondering why this place seemed important, and waited until Hope appeared ready to move on.

As they drew closer to the Yaschas Massif that Hope had mentioned, they walked past a few travelers. Hope fell in behind them, his hood down, and silent as a mausoleum. Cid followed suit. All of the people looked dirty and tired, and many pushed carts filled with stones.

When they emerged from Vallis Media, Cid gaped once again. Before them, a town stretched out across a mountain basin. The design looked haphazard and random, and most of the buildings appeared made of stone and wood, with only a few tall buildings displaying metal. The city bustled with activity, and people milled about, paying little attention to the travelers entering and exiting at all location. Cid could even see a road now, newly paved, where chocobos pulled wagons filled with fruits and vegetables.

"Fuel reserves are seriously depleted," Hope said, as if guessing Cid's thoughts. "While scavengers do okay with their airships, since they frequently go to Cocoon, most people who don't work for PSICOM use wagons and chocobo-pulled carriages."

"Strange. Is there electricity?"

Hope shook his head. "Only in a few PSICOM buildings. They run everything now, so be careful. If you're recognized, you'll be arrested or worse. And they still hate l'Cie--more than ever, because they blame us for Cocoon's destruction." He scowled. "We saved them from the fal'Cie, but they don't care about the truth. They still worship them."

"Perhaps they hate you because in some way, you did destroy Cocoon," Cid replied.

"Saving the people counts for something." Hope glared back at Cid, then at the town. "Not that they care."

"Likely not." Cid studied the looming settlement. It spread across a vast terrain, but it did not seem vast enough to account for all Cocoon's survivors--unless the population had been reduced to a hundredth of its size. "Is this the only town?"

"No. They build anywhere that the military can clear out the monsters. The Tsumitran Basin only holds this town. There are a couple of small cities in the Archylte Steppe, but PSICOM's presence is smaller here."

Cid found Hope's willingness to share all this information interesting. Perhaps he enjoyed sharing knowledge. It certainly could not be often that such a young man had the opportunity to instruct anyone, much less a man Cid's age.

As they approached the city, they reached a large sign stuck fast into the ground. While the detail was impressive, Cid could tell that map etched into the wood had been done by hand, not machine. It fascinated him--he had never seen anything like that on Cocoon.

Hope gestured at the sign. "This is it. You can figure out everything from here." He turned away. "Thanks, I guess."

Cid blinked, feeling as if someone had just shot the training device off his velocycle while still in mid-air. Hope started to walk away, his slim form already starting to recede.

"You're leaving?" Cid called.

"Catch on quick, don't you?" Hope called back.

The sarcasm--especially in a line that befit him more than some boy who puberty had treated with kid gloves--grated on Cid's nerves. "You can't just leave," he snapped. He sounded as if he were aboard the _Lindblum_ , commanding one of his men, but unlike his former subordinates, Hope ignored him and continued to walk away.

Cid felt a flash of panic that he stowed with lightning-fast soldier reflexes. When he had considered leaving Hope behind, he had only felt guilty, but watching Hope walk away felt entirely different. Cid knew nothing, understood nothing. In five years, the world had left him behind. The last time he had worked alone, he wound up a pawn for the very creatures he sought to defeat.

Determined not to let history repeat, Cid chased after Hope, who had skirted the edges of the town to continue deeper into the Yaschas Massif. It took him several moments to speak, because he had to wrench the request past his dignity, which proved an admirable obstacle. "Don't leave." At least he did not sound as if he were begging.

Hope drew up short and actually glanced back at him.

"Why are you leaving?" Cid demanded.

"Why do you want me to stay?" Hope sounded irritated. "You're a grown man. You should be able to handle being on your own."

"That's not the point. Why do you want to leave?"

Hope turned away. "Because there's no point in me staying. There's not much point in anything. Just leave me alone."

Cid brow furrowed. That sounded like something he would have said after being turned into a l'Cie, yet he did not understand why Hope would express that sentiment. Thought it had been five years, he had seemed like such a bright, wise boy. "You won your freedom. Even if Cocoon fell, you and your friends still saved the people. I know it must be hard being a social pariah, but you can still find your friends, and I'm sure--"

"No!" Hope shouted, whirling around again. "I can't!"

Cid stepped closer to the youth. "Why not?"

Hope's expression crumpled. "They're not l'Cie anymore. But I am, same as you. And you and I have even more than that in common." On his wrist, an ornate l'Cie brand had been etched onto his flesh, different from the one he bore before. It looked exactly like Cid's.

"We should both be dead," Hope whispered.

 

 _To be continued…_


	4. The Grim Reaper

Comparing l'Cie brands did not seem wise outside a town filled with angry Cocoon survivors, so Hope led Cid to a small cave nestled in the winding paths of Yaschas Massif. Hope pressed himself against the cave wall, looking even smaller than usual. Outside, the shone brightly, as if in counterpoint to his dark expression.

Cid pulled off his glove and held out his right hand. "This is not Barthandelus' brand. This is not Anima's brand. But it's the same as yours." He studied Hope. "The truth. I want it."

Hope looked away. His silvery hair fell in his face, obscuring his expression now--no doubt on purpose. Despite the queasy feeling in Cid's belly, he felt the urge to brush the hair from Hope's eyes. He resisted it. With a sigh, Hope inched along the wall, his fingers running over the striated stone.

"I never fully understood why Vanille lied so much, but I get it now. It's easier that way." Hope glanced back at Cid. He flexed his left hand then lifted it to touch Cid's head.

Cid jerked back, surprised by the touch, but Hope seemed to have found a sore spot on his skull. He touched it himself, digging through his thick hair to feel a strange lumpy scar on the right side of his head that he could not recall receiving. The press of his fingertips sent sparks of pain shooting through his skull, and he felt dizzy. He lifted his fingers and stared down at Hope.

"You did die," Hope said, his voice flat. "Rygdea shot you in the head. But there is a fal'Cie, Fenrir, whose duty it is to collect the corpses of powerful people and bring them to another fal'Cie for Reincarnation."

"Reincarnation?"

"It's a power of a fal'Cie named Asura, the Gatekeeper. I don't know how she does it, just that she can bring the dead back to life as her l'Cie. Fenrir brought her both you--" Hope swallowed and stared up at the cave roof. "--and me."

"You? What the hell are you talking about?" Cid touched his scar again. The world seemed to spin, but not because he felt dizzy. There was so much to accept, so much to understand. How could the world change so much in five short years?

"We're dead men," Hope said. "Dead men resurrected to serve a fal'Cie."

"How is that even possible?"

"I don't know. How did fal'Cie power a floating sphere filled with hundreds of millions of humans? It's what they do." Hope sliced a hand through the air, leaving a trail of magical light behind. He looked fierce, full of anger. Cid almost envied him that. He only felt empty.

"Please explain," Cid said.

Hope sighed and twisted his head to the side. He lifted his head, revealing a ragged scar just over his jugular. It looked like a partial bite mark. "She can't heal all the damage, I guess. This is all I have left of my death wound. Fenrir brought me to her sanctum, and I woke up with her brand on me." He stared down at his left wrist. "Funny, she put it in the same place as Anima's."

"So, I really was Primarch? And Rygdea--he killed me?" Cid rubbed his face, queasy with the enormity of Hope's simple statements. "I don't remember this."

"You took a bullet in your brain. Maybe you can't remember." Hope glanced at him, and his gaze softened a bit. "Barthandelus brought you back as his puppet. At least Asura gave you back your original will."

"My original will?" Cid's right hand started to burn, but he paid it no intention. Instead, the emptiness opened up inside of him, swallowing everything but hatred. Somehow, he had gone beyond the moral dilemma of becoming a mere l'Cie. Barthandelus had made him a puppet who allowed Cocoon's destruction--making him the very thing he had fought against all his life. Barthandelus had robbed him of everything--his life, his will, his home. Barthandelus had ruined his life, from the moment Cid entered the Primarch's chambers, ready to commit regicide. "He made me a puppet?"

"Oh." Hope's eyes grew wide and fixed on Cid's hand. He started to back away towards the entrance. "Oh, shit."

"I was nothing but a puppet." The burning on Cid's hand grew in intensity, yet he felt as if a layer of plastic stretched between him and the sensation. Instead, despair feasted on his heart. He could not spare a thought to Hope. All he could think of was his parents, living their whole lives to reenact the War of Transgression and celebrate Cocoon, oblivious to how they meant nothing more to the fal'Cie than a crop did to a harvesting machine. In the end, they had died due to fal'Cie neglect. Even his loyal Cavalry had died because of fal'Cie. Cid had been unable to save any of them, for he had been as helpless as they. He had made so many promises and broken them all. He had been reduced to nothing more than a decoy. And yet again, he was a l'Cie, his existence bound to the fal'Cie against his will. He clenched his fists.

Cid stared down at his burning right hand, as if mesmerized. Suddenly, the pain flared bright, melting away the plastic barrier, and consumed his being. Beneath his feet, a silver seal lit, as if bursting from him. All his hatred and sorrow seemed to manifest itself into reality. The light dazzled his eyes, and when he could see again, the cave roof exploded in a shower of stone and dirt. A red-cloaked man with four arms floated just above him, a different sword gleaming in each hand. He glared down at Cid with white eyes, and his metallic joints hissed with steam.

"What… are you?" Cid asked the machine-like man.

"An Eidolon," Hope said, appearing next to Cid. "It's here to end your misery--by ending you."

Cid had no time to respond before a huge blade sliced down at them. Cid and Hope jumped away on either side of the blade. Cid stared up at the creature as a dark magic suddenly seized him, bleeding his life away with every passing second.

Hope pulled out a large, ornate boomerang from his belt that opened in a single flick of his wrist. In another flick, a Firaga spell burst from him. The four-armed man spun with the attack, and the edges of his cloak crisped. He swung out four times in quick succession. Cid dodged, but he felt one of the blades bite into his back, stinging like a whip. The pain gave Cid focus. He focused solely on this demon spawned from his own l'Cie brand, determined not to let it cut him again. He fired a Ruinga at it, but the four-armed man nimbly avoided the worst of it.

Cid gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the ache in his back. "I don't have a sword."

Hope jerked his head at the four-armed man whirling his blades. "Then take one of his."

The suggestion made Cid smile. Hope quickly cast Cura, which reduced much of the sting of Cid's wound, then buffed him with Haste and Protect. Cid nodded in thanks and darted towards the four-armed man, this Eidolon.

Blades swung at him, coming from four directions at once, but he poured all his training into ducking and dodging. The world flipped upside down, sideways, becoming a blur. His vision focused on the blades the four-armed man swung at him. Occasionally, one would slice his flesh, but then a cool Cure spell from Hope erased the pain. Cid forgot all of his worries, all of his confusion, and focused on the thrill of movement.

Remembering his favorite instructor's admonishments, Cid cast Libra before making a move. The Eidolon wielded four different blades. One of terrible quality that did little more than bruise him, but the other three were as deadly and sharp as Yaag's Masamune had once been. Cid belayed further thoughts of his old friend, likely long dead by now, and focused on his enemy. He took the blunted blow of the weak weapon and prepared for the next attack. Within half of a second, the Eidolon's top left arm swung at him.

Cid sidestepped and cried out, "Now." He kicked out in a Vendetta maneuver, his foot slamming into the creature's wrist. A moment later, a Thunder spell from Hope struck the same spot. The joint hissed and released a puff of steam, and the four-armed creature gave a metallic screech. Cid rolled and grabbed the blade, coming to his feet just as the Eidolon recovered.

"Don't hold back," Hope said, and bestowed Bravera.

The rest of the battle was a blur. Cid struck out with his new blade, a fine weapon with perfect balance. Sliding it through the air, trading blows of joint-wracking strength with the four-armed man, jumping off rock, off the creature's many arms. Blood pounded in his ears, and he gulped the air, keenly aware of how alive he was. As they fought, Cid realized he knew this creature. He understood his every move, his very motivations. He could hear the Eidolon's name, whispered in his mind.

Gilgamesh.

The Doom magic that had bled Cid's life away faded, restoring his life to him. The man suddenly laughed, a rumbling sound, like machinery come to life. He stretched up towards the sky, sunlight gleaming over his metallic joints. As he hovered over the earth, his body transformed, twisting, shifting, and stretching out. He resembled a wolf, and Cid knew instantly to hop on his back when he ran towards him.

Hope stood by the ruined cave entrance, staring at Cid and Gilgamesh. He wiped sweat from his brow. "'The Goddess pitied also those subjected to that fate of Focus, crueler still than death. To them She sent Her messengers, to deliver hope when all was lost,'" he said, as if reciting something.

"What is that from?"

"A Gran Pulsian seeress said it. We found it in the Analects." Hope scowled. "This wasn't exactly quiet. PSICOM's coming." He pointed towards the direction of the town. Cid could see military vehicles amassing, even at this distance. "Think your new friend can run?"

"Gilgamesh is fast, yes."

"Great, because Alexander isn't." Hope jumped on Gilgamesh's back and clung to Cid without hesitation. The touch left Cid tingling with a rather inappropriate warmth. "And Gilgamesh? Really? Why'd you name him after the store?"

"I didn't. He came with that name," Cid said, trying not to sound defensive. It was not his fault if his Eidolon shared a name with some retail network. He glanced back at the city. Already, the PSICOM vehicles roared towards them. Cid spurred Gilgamesh forward, across the steppes. The wind grew fierce, stealing his breath. The scenery started to blur, and soon, they left PSICOM and the township far behind them.

The entire time, Cid thought he heard Gilgamesh laughing.

 

 _To be continued…_


	5. Dead Men Tell Tales

After Gilgamesh's power finally waned, Cid stopped. He did not know where he was, but the lack of PSICOM made it appear Gilgamesh chose well. The canyon valley was deep and green, and the humid air hung thick in the waning sunlight. In the thick trees that lined the valley, Cid could hear the rustling of leaves and the noises of small animals. Little of it interested him at the moment. He felt completely drained, as if it had been he who ran so fast and leapt over mountains. Hope said little and soon disappeared to scout for shelter.

Cid had fallen asleep by the time Hope returned. He gently shook Cid by the shoulder and led him into a small cave a kilometer away. The fluorescent plants offered them lighting as they progressed down the narrow entrance to a wider chamber.

"I already defeated the Yaksha who lived in here." Hope sat down. "We'll be safe."

"You should have woken me to help you."

Hope glared. "Believe it or not, I can take care of myself," he spat. He sighed and his expression softened. "It's not that strong, anyways."

Cid nodded and stared down at the cave floor. The weak light of the plants made it seem as if they were underwater. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Not leaving."

"Oh."

Cid glanced up. "You wanted to, though, I'm sure. After all, I betrayed you and your friends."

"We've all done stupid things in the past." Hope studied him. "I'm not fourteen anymore. I can think more clearly than I used to."

That soothed Cid's soul as surely as a Cure spell. "Do you know where we are?"

Hope nodded. "Just south of the Paddrean Archaeopolis." He must have noticed the expression on Cid's face, as he soon explained. "That's to the south of the town in Tsumitran Basin. We're in Niche Pass, which connects Yaschas Massif to the Maias Mountains."

"You must know your way around fairly well. You've explored this area?"

"Yeah." Hope scowled. "Back when I was with the others."

"You have a story to tell. I'd like to hear it."

"What, how I died and wound up like this?"

"And how you knew about me."

Hope sat down. "It's a long story."

"Don't worry. I've cancelled all my appointments for the evening."

"Heh."

As Hope began his story, Cid leaned back against the cave wall and listened without comment.

 

. . .

 

We'd been traveling for four years when we reached the Feymarch Gates. All six of us former l'Cie kept together after Cocoonfall: me, Lightning, Snow, Serah, Sazh, and Dajh. People still remembered us, and PSICOM wanted our heads in baskets more than ever. They blamed us for everything. They said we destroyed Cocoon and tried to kill everyone. They made the fal'Cie into martyrs and built memorials to them. It's almost funny, when you think about it--all those tears they shed over their attempted murderers.

Team NORA still helped us out, of course, and so did my dad, but the fact of the matter is that we did not have homes. We couldn't stay with them. We wandered Gran Pulse, trying to stay out of the way of the really dangerous creatures. We'd lost our magic, but not our weapons, so we weren't helpless. Sometimes it got pretty tough, especially with Dajh to protect, but we managed.

We headed south from the Paddrean Archaeopolis, and we wound up in the Maias Valley, which is covered in some sort of rain forest. It's a great place when you don't have any magic and just some stolen Manadrives, because there are fewer predators. Mostly grazers and tree climbers, and we could handle the alraune and triffids okay.

If we hadn't found the Feymarch Gates, I'd still be--never mind. We did find the Feymarch Gates. They stretched between the mountains, all made of metal. It took our breath away when we saw it. It's more like a fortress than a gate, but behind it, we could hear the ocean. It's the only way to the ocean, unless you want to climb mountains where zirnitra nest. And we didn't, not without our magic.

Snow and Serah were determined to get in. "C'mon, Lightning," he kept saying. "We won't know what's in there until we look. If it's dangerous, we'll leave. But I want to see the ocean."

They're from Bodhum, you know. I guess they missed the beach. Lightning must have, too, because she eventually agreed. "Right," she said, like she always does when she's not sure about something. "Just be careful."

It was summer in Maias Valley, and so hot that Snow kept fainting all the time. But inside, it was quiet and cool. We just wandered around the empty halls, grateful to soak up the cool air--especially Snow. He flopped down on top one of the vents, and we all laughed at him when Sarah made him get up to explore with her. The only interesting thing we found were a huge set of double doors, big enough for an oretoise to walk through, but we couldn't get them to open.

After all that time in the heat, the Gates felt cold to me. And I felt as if someone watched me. I left ahead of everyone else. I just wanted to get warm and to shake that spooky feeling. I stood on the steps, rubbing my arms. I was so stupid, as I stared down at the trees below. I'd been inside the jungle too long, I guess, with the tree canopy to protect me.

The zirnitra dropped on me from above. I didn't even have a chance to pull out my boomerang before its fangs sank into me. I'd never felt pain like that before, as its poison shot through my veins and its teeth plunged into my flesh. It burned, and I couldn't even scream. But then the pain was gone. Its mouth was still clamped over my shoulder, its teeth sunk into my neck and chest, but the pain was gone. The last thing I saw was Lightning running out of the door, slashing her gunblade at the zirnitra. She screamed something, but I don't know what. Maybe my name. I wanted to tell her there was no use and to just run back inside where it was safe, but I couldn't speak. Then everything just ended. It didn't go black or anything--it just stopped. Like a picture, frozen forever in my mind.

So you can imagine my surprise when I woke up inside of some kind of pool. I wasn't drowning, which was weird, and I didn't even need to breathe until I swam to the surface. I pulled myself out, and some sort of silver megistotherian peered down at me with glowing blue eyes.

"Peace," he rumbled at me. "I am not your enemy. I am Fenrir, the Courier of the Dead."

That's when I realized he didn't just look silver--he was made out of it. A fal'Cie crystal glowed in his chest. I screamed and backed away, and that's when I discovered I had magic again, because I cast a Thundaga on him without thinking about it. But he only blinked at me. He didn't make a sound, and my spell didn't even leave a mark.

That's when I saw it, with my hand up, still tingling with electricity. The l'Cie brand. It looked just like all those flourishes and swirly designs on the big door we couldn't open. I'm not ashamed to say that I cried when I saw it. After all we went through, after everything we did, I had died and left everyone I knew behind. And now I was a l'Cie again.

After a while, Fenrir nudged me. "Up, l'Cie," he growled. "It is time to meet Asura, the Gatekeeper."

I followed him only because I wanted to kill her. I was so angry that it felt as if a thousand Firagas burned inside of me. I could hardly see as I followed him, and I kept stumbling. I thought I might throw up at some point.

It wasn't until we reached those huge doors that I realized I was back inside the Feymarch Gates. The doors opened this time, and Fenrir led me right inside. When I walked in, I didn't even get a chance to process the sight of Asura before a vision of my Focus possessed me. I fell to my knees so hard they stung, but I saw this huge cavern filled with crystals. All the crystals exploded when some huge creatures destroyed them, and the vision shifted to the Feymarch Gates. They cracked and crumbled to dust, revealing the beach behind it. People crowded on the beach--all my friends, my father, Team NORA, even the Cocoon survivors. And a huge tsunami rose up and washed over them, drowning the entire world.

When the vision ended, Fenrir stood beside me. Ahead, extending from the wall, stood Asura. She had three faces, one of white, one of red, and one of gold. Where her abdomen should be was a fal'Cie crystal. Her head flipped around until the golden face stared at me. She was almost beautiful, in a weird way. You were there, too, floating beside her in some sort of magical force field. I gaped, because I thought you were dead.

"What--what's he doing here?" I asked. Stupid, huh? There I was, not knowing anything, and I ask why you're there--not me.

Turns out the question wasn't as dumb as it sounded, because I inadvertently killed two wyverns with one boomerang. "He is here for the same reason that you are," Asura said. "But it is not his time to awake. It is yours, however."

"Mine?" I could feel my anger again, swelling up now that I was recovering from the shock. "What have you done to me?"

"I have granted you my power."

When she said that, I lost it. My mind was on fire. I summoned Alexander, not even sure if it would work, but he came back, as if he had always been inside of me, even when I wasn't a l'Cie. Maybe he was, you know, always there, sleeping. I just started slinging spells, while he slammed into them. I broke out of the room with him and started running. I ran and ran until I passed out somewhere in the Maias Valley.

I didn't know where any of my friends were. And I couldn't go back, not like this. I could get them killed. Maybe that was my Focus, I don't know. So when I woke, I left the Maias Valley. Eventually, I went into the Faultwarrens. No one but l'Cie can get in, so I thought I could be completely alone. I was, for a little while, until you and Nabaat showed up.

That's it. You know the rest.

 

. . .

 

Cid did not speak for several moments after Hope finished. His mind struggled to process this strange story and how it related to him. The world had changed so much while he slept, but nothing about him changed. He was still a l'Cie, bound by a mysterious Focus to a fal'Cie master. His situation remained just as hopeless. Hope patiently waited, studying him with eyes that reflected the luminescence of the cave's plants.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Cid finally asked.

Hope shrugged. "I just thought you might want to find your own way."

"Last time, you banded together with your fellow l'Cie and managed to find the best solution possible. You claim you only destroyed Cocoon, but not its people, and earned your freedom." Cid smiled, though he did not know why. His thoughts did not make him happy. "But of course, they were your friends. I'm the man who tried to kill you."

Hope only dropped his gaze and said nothing. But then, he did not need to.

Cid sighed and leaned forward. "So, what are you going to do now?"

"Me?" Hope frowned. "You want me to leave?"

"No. But I doubt you're going to like where I'm going, even if you did wish to join me."

Hope tilted his head in question.

"I'm going to go find Asura."

"What? Are you insane?"

"Possibly. But she brought us back to life for a reason. From what you described, she seems unlike most other fal'Cie--she seemed like she wanted to talk to you, perhaps even about your Focus. I want to find out what she has to say, at least. So when I turn into a Cie'th, I have a reason why. I don't want this to end for me like it did last time."

Hope scowled.

"Of course, if you want to come with me, you're welcome. After all, you know the way." Cid studied Hope. Never before had the thought of being alone actually frightened him, but before, at least he had been in a world he understood. On Gran Pulse, he was little more than an overgrown child.

"I--" Hope looked away and plucked at a few of the fluorescent flowers. Their light quickly started to fade. "I guess I don't have anything else to do."

Cid leaned close to Hope and smiled. "Thank you."

Hope flushed and leaned away from Cid. "We should get some rest." He seemed tense.

"Of course."

Cid backed off and lay down on one side of the cave, wondering if Hope's embarrassment at his closeness was simply that Hope was uncomfortable--or if he was interested. Hope also lay down and rolled over, presenting Cid his back. His silver hair slid down his neck as he settled, revealing still-flushed skin. Cid considered reaching out and stroking that wanton patch of skin, but exhaustion suddenly seized him, and he fell asleep before he could act on his desire.

 

 _To be continued…_


	6. Necrophilia

Cid woke early, as always, and shook Hope awake. Hope grumbled and scowled, obviously not caring for military hours. After taking far too long to get ready, Hope led Cid farther south. They soon reached the end of the narrow tree-lined Niche Pass and looked over the verdant Maias Valley. Mountains rose on either side, as if shielding and protecting the valley from the sky itself. The heady scent of green foliage and rich soil soon overwhelmed Cid's sense of smell. Explosions of color, from huge flowers hanging off vines that wrapped around the trees, punctuated the endless ocean of green. Cid could hear animals rustling leaves and insects buzzing in the distance. Not even the Sunleth Waterscape could compare.

"You never expected Gran Pulse to be so beautiful, did you?" Hope asked, smiling as he studied Cid's expression. He turned back to gaze at the valley. "Neither did I."

"Gran Pulse. Why do you call it that?"

"It's what Fang and Vanille called it. I know better than to argue with Fang, even if she's not around to hear me." Hope sounded wistful.

"I see. And no. I didn't expect it to be so beautiful."

Hope nodded and started climbing down the path. "Careful. Wyverns might drop out of nowhere." He did not bother keeping the bitterness from his voice.

"Do you think we will find your friends in there?" Cid asked as he followed. The path leading into the wooded valley was quite steep, and he chose his footing carefully.

Hope shrugged and kept his gaze on the ground. Whether because he was even more concerned about his footing than Cid or because he did not wish to look him in the eye, Cid could not guess. "It doesn't matter." Hope's meaning could not have been plainer if he materialized the subject of his friends and then cast Protectga over it. Cid did not press the subject further.

A single amphisbaena dropped on them on their way down, but the beast stood little chance against Cid's new blade and Hope's rapid magic casting. They felled it in less than a minute. The corpse crashed to the ground, smoking, but Hope continued to fire Ruin spells at it. His face was alight with unmistakable anger. The amphisbaena's body disintegrated under the spells, and its ashes spewed across the soil. Yet, Hope continued to cast Ruin as sweat rolled down his face.

Cid grabbed Hope's wrist, and the succession of Ruin spells finally ceased. He said nothing as he stared down at Hope's twisted expression. Hope snarled at him and tried to yank his wrist free, but Cid kept his grip adamantite firm.

"Who are you fighting, Hope?"

This gave Hope pause, and he stared at Cid with wide green eyes. The midday sunlight glittered off them, rendering them almost golden. "Let me go."

"Did you think you were fighting the zirnitra who killed you? Fenrir? Asura? Perhaps even Barthandelus?"

"Let me go!"

Cid released Hope's wrist. He could understand that anger, for he shared in it, but not the same way Hope did. His current predicament seemed an improvement over his existence as Barthandelus's puppet. Except when Gilgamesh had appeared, he rarely felt anything as intently as it appeared Hope did. He almost envied Hope's passion. His seemed to have drained out of him ever since the first l'Cie brand appeared on his hand.

Hope's bottom lip trembled and he looked away, facing towards the tree line, shielding his expression from Cid's view. Cid sighed and continued down the path. "We should continue before more of those things appear."

After several long moments, Hope followed without speaking.

 

. . .

 

"We can eat these." Hope set down a small bag filled with fruit and vegetables. This was the first time he had spoken since the amphisbaena incident. "I'll use the tubers and the meat from the tree climber to make a stew."

Cid looked up from the campfire he had just created with a small Fire spell. "You know how to cook?"

"A little. Serah--" Hope's voice caught, and he stared down at his bag. "--taught me."

"Good. Teach me."

Hope studied Cid then nodded. Using a sharp piece of bone, he quickly taught Cid how to cut the food and butcher the tree climber. He filled the shell of a large nut with water and converted it into a pot. After setting it carefully over the fire, braced on the rocks, he added the meat, several tubers, and herbs. The production was quite simple, which surprised Cid, who had never thought much about cooking. Cocoon had no lack of food or rations thanks to Carbuncle's incessant production. Yet, this food was made by nature and human hands. Cid marveled over the pot of stew as yet another symbol of human independence from the fal'Cie. Humans could take care of themselves--they needed nothing but their own determination and nature's bounty.

"You act like I made something special." Hope smiled and stood up with the rest of the tools. "Serah's stew is much better than mine, but this is better than nothing. Anyways, I'm going to clean up and bring back more water in those nutshells. There's a clear pool nearby."

By the time Hope returned, the pot was boiling. The savory scent of the stew had set Cid stomach's rumbling. "Do you think it is ready yet?" Cid asked.

"No, not yet. You sound like Dajh. That kid can eat almost as much as Snow can." Hope pursed his lips.

Cid studied him. It was obvious the subject of his friends hurt him to speak about. It seemed inappropriate to press him for details, yet Cid almost wished Hope would express what he truly felt. He yearned to start a normal conversation, but everything he could think of wandered into dangerous territory: questions about Hope's family, his friends, even school. Every question he had could lead to painful answers.

Hope broke the silence as he stirred the stew. "So, where were you from, originally?" Apparently, Hope's curiosity on certain subjects matched Cid's own.

"Nautilus."

"Really? The City of Dreams. It must have been great, living there."

"Not especially. I found it too crowded, too loud, and too whimsical for my tastes. My family kept odd hours, as my parents worked as street entertainers. I hated having to wake at midnight to help them carry their props."

"Street entertainers?" Hope blinked up at Cid.

Cid smiled. "Yes. They performed in the Pompa Sancta Parade and many other shows. They were both quite talented."

"What about you?"

"Not in the slightest. The only creatures that appreciate my singing are female chocobos, but only if it's mating season."

"Oh." Hope looked as if trying to repress a smile. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. My temperament was not suited to Nautilus. I far preferred life in the military. Order, regulation, and a decent schedule. Not like now."

"Do you think… that your parents might have survived Cocoonfall?"

Cid smiled, through the expression ran only skin deep. "They died long before Cocoonfall. A scaffolding fell on them during a performance. The fal'Cie neglected their duty to maintain the structures." He glanced down at his right hand and stowed his sorrow into a place where his mind could not see it, where his heart could not feel it. His parents' death, a simple accident, had led him to this path. After they died, he researched the fal'Cie until he understood them, but not enough, for he had no defense against being branded a l'Cie when he confronted Primarch Dysley. It was almost ironic to think that if the structural fal'Cie had been more attentive, none of this would have happened.

"I'm sorry," Hope whispered. The sorrow appeared genuine.

"There's no need to be. It was a long time ago. And we've all lost someone." Cid studied Hope, watching the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. "I like to think I would have caused the same sort of trouble, even if I had chosen entertainment over the military. If I have a talent, that would be it."

"Maybe so. At least you know where you belonged. I never gave much thought to my future. I always figured I'd wind up in Sanctum administration like--" Hope swallowed and stared off at the trees distantly. "--my father. I didn't really want to work there, though. And I don't think I would have made a good entertainer or military man, either."

"I don't think you would have done well in the military, no, but Nautilus might have suited you. They did have call for many beautiful models."

Hope flushed red. "Ah, beautiful?" His voice wavered.

Cid smirked and leaned back against a tree. It felt smooth and solid, cool despite the warmth of the valley. "Yes, of course. Very beautiful. You'd have fit right in."

"Oh." Hope stared down at the nutshell pot. The bottom had blackened from the fire. "I think the stew's ready."

"Excellent." Cid moved closer as Hope filled another nutshell with the stew. They lacked utensils, but Cid was too hungry to care. He ignored the heat stinging his fingertips and tongue and ate well. "I might be biased by my lack of a decent meal in the past five years, but this is delicious."

"Thanks. Tomorrow is your turn."

"Then I hope to do half as well."

"I'm sure you'll do fine. It's not hard. Serah even taught Snow how to cook." Hope continued to stare at his stew, and his neck and face still flushed red. It made quite the contrast against his mane of silver hair.

"Hm." Cid chewed and swallowed a hunk of meat. "Has no one ever complimented your beauty before?"

"What?" Hope glanced up, almost alarmed. "No. Not really."

"Pity. You are quite lovely."

Hope shoved a tuber in his mouth in an obvious ploy to avoid response. Cid smirked and finished his meal, but harassed Hope no more on the subject. That night, at least.

 

. . .

 

The next morning, Cid woke up with the scent of dirt in his nose, mostly because he had his face pressed against the bare soil. He brushed himself off and frowned. His clothes were in ruins, his skin grimy, his hair in tangles, and he could only imagine that he smelled as bad as he looked. He had never been so unclean in his life.

Cid shook Hope, and the boy awoke reluctantly. After scowling and blinking for a considerable period of time, Hope disappeared and returned with more nutshells filled with water. Cid gulped down the liquid as Hope returned to the water source. It occurred to Cid as he stared down at his empty nutshell that he could use that same water source for a bath. He was so accustomed to showers and locker rooms that the idea of bathing in a stream or a pool seemed novel. Cid headed towards the sound of running water and soon found a clear pool, only partially covered by the tree canopy. The early morning sunlight glinted so brightly off the water that Cid did not immediately notice Hope apparently had the same idea he had.

Hope blinked at Cid, his entire body blushing. Water dripped off his slender frame, running down pale skin just as Cid's fingers longed to do. It had been far too many years since Cid had been able to appreciate such naked beauty. Heat shot through Cid's body, leaving his pants uncomfortably tight.

"My apologies," Cid said. He tore his gaze from Hope's slender form and fixed it on a nearby tree. "I'll wait." He turned away.

"You don't---you don't have to leave."

Cid paused and glanced back. He did not know what to say, so he settled for studying Hope.

Hope's brows knitted together, and he parted his lips as he held out a handful of sand. "You can use the sand to get clean. It smells nice," he said. "I can help you."

"Do you realize what you're offering?" Cid asked, as gently as he could. As much as he wanted Hope, he had no desire to rush the boy into something he would regret.

"Yes. It's been a long time since I've been with anyone." Hope cast his gaze down at the pool. "I like you. The way you look, the way you talk, the way you won't go away. But if you don't want to…" He trailed off.

Cid stepped forward and undid his belt. It fell to the ground with a dull thud. Hope watched Cid intently as he undressed, his gaze never wavering as Cid peeled off his clothes, beginning with his gloves. The flush across his body grew pinker as Cid slid his clothing off. Cid hurried, despite himself, his fingers aching to run over Hope's warm skin. There was little showmanship to his stripping, but then, he had never been an entertainer.

The water felt warm as Cid stepped in, and the sand collecting in the bottom comfortable beneath his bare feet. He kept his gaze on Hope, the way the sun glinted off his silver hair, the way water rolled along the curves of his body. Cid indulged his aching fingers and followed the beads of water, finding the flesh smooth and even warmer than the water. Hope shivered.

As his body warmed and his cock hardened, Cid grabbed Hope's wrist. Hope's hand went slack and the sand dribbled out, back into the water, to settle on the bottom. "We'll scrub later," Cid whispered, and drew Hope closer.

Hope's earlier hesitation seemed to melt away. He pressed himself against Cid and drew Cid's head down so their lips could meet. The kiss was hungry and messy, two starving men setting upon a feast laid out before them. Cid smoothed his hands along Hope's back, fingers stumbling over vertebrae, until he slid his hands over a rounded ass and cupped it. Hope made a small noise, a bird gasping for air, and it was that which sent Cid so aflame he could hardly think with desire pooling in his abdomen.

Sex was always a messy affair, one that rarely called for his usual contemplation. Instead, it was flesh, and the craving for it. Cid dragged Hope to the shore and laid him over his cloak so he could run his mouth along that flesh. Hope squirmed, but Cid kept him pinned down. Bits and pieces of thoughts traveled through his mind as he tasted Hope's oddly sweet, sand-scrubbed flesh. A scar, small and thin, cut through Hope's silver pubic hair, ending at the base of his cock. Cid followed it with his tongue then forged his path across Hope's cock until he reached the summit and lapped at Hope's tip.

Hope cried out, a sound Cid cherished from all his lovers, and this no exception. As he came, the taste of salt mingled with the sweet on Cid's tongue. Cid swallowed and moved up along Hope's body, pressing himself against him, his unspent desire fueled by Hope's spent orgasm. Cid pressed his lips to Hope's white throat, licking the water off, and gracelessly rocked his hips against the youth. Fingers entwined in his hair, drawing his attention to Hope's still-flushed face.

"I can return the favor," Hope whispered. "Sit back."

Cid smiled and did as Hope requested. With only his cape to separate his bare flesh from the ground, he should have been uncomfortable, but he only felt the heat of arousal as Hope leaned forward to trail his soft lips down Cid's chest and stomach. Small moans escaped Cid, despite his best attempts to restrain them, and his mind struggled to process the source of his building pleasure. He buried his fingers in Hope's hair, the wet locks tangling easily at his touch. When Hope reached Cid's cock, he took the entire length without hesitation. Cid leaned back, not daring to close his eyes, instead riveted by the sight of Hope's head moving between his legs.

Sensation soon conquered sight, and Cid only experienced the feeling of his cock in Hope's mouth, licking, kissing, finally sucking. He had always been a disciplined man, one who responded well to military rigor, but when he reached the breaking point, Cid cried out. He gripped Hope's hair, perhaps yanking too hard, for some leverage in the shifting, unbalancing pleasure that washed over him. His senses seem to fade out then back in. He sat there panting, reflecting that Maias Valley certainly was hot in the summer time, its air heavy with humidity and heady with its own scent, not entirely unlike Cid himself.

Hope sat up and rubbed the back of his head. He studied Cid's expression, looking nervous. "That was nice," he whispered.

Cid smiled and cupped Hope's cheek. "Quite. I'm sorry I yanked your hair."

Hope returned the smile. "It's okay." He lightly touched Cid's hand. "C'mon. I promised I'd help you bathe."

"Good thing, because I need it more than ever." Cid rose and helped Hope up as well. He had always planned his relationships before with crisp precision, controlling them until he inevitably destroyed them. This time, he decided to simply follow where it led him.

For the moment, it led him back into the pool to wash.

 

 _To be continued…_


	7. Graveside Mourners

Cid's cloak still hung over a branch, drying, as did most of their clothes. Cid did not mind, because it left him and Hope naked. The underside of the leaves Hope chose for their bedding felt soft and velvety, and Cid rested quite comfortably upon them, especially with Hope lying in his arms, half-asleep. The campfire crackled low, but it really did not matter in the warmth of the Maias Valley.

"We should keep going tomorrow," Cid said, running his fingers over the delicate curves of Hope's body.

Hope's eyes fluttered open. "Are we going there to kill Asura?"

"Maybe. But I was serious when I said I wanted to try and talk to her."

"Maybe we'll turn into Cie'th."

"Maybe we will." Cid brushed Hope's hair aside to bare an ear and kissed it. He found the idea more unsettling than he had before. He did not care for the idea of Hope being imprisoned as little more than a walking curse. "Maybe we won't."

"Is there any point to this, then?" Hope asked, pressing a hand to Cid's chest. He did not meet Cid's gaze.

"Yes."

The shadow of a smile played on Hope's lips, and he reached over to pick up Cid's new sword. Cid glanced at the blade, which glinted under the weak firelight.

"You see this?" Hope asked, tracing a finger over the strange writing etched onto the blade. "That's Pulse writing. Vanille taught me. This says, 'Excalibur.' I think that's the sword's name."

"Really?" Cid repressed a shiver. He did not think it coincidence that it was this sword Gilgamesh bore and that he took. Fate had yet again struck him as fiercely as a Thundaga spell. "That's sword's name is legendary. It belonged to one of the l'Cie who helped lead the people to Cocoon. It was said he sealed the entrance to the Mechagony from the evil fal'Cie on Pulse, and then rose to Cocoon with his fal'Cie master, only to turn into crystal once Cocoon became a 'paradise.' Not such a noble act when you actually know what Cocoon was for."

"The Mechagony? Nabaat mentioned it, too. What is it?"

"The birthplace of the fal'Cie. I found out about when I did research on the fal'Cie--I was around your age then. The myth goes that the Maker shaped eggs from a crystal matrix, and the fal'Cie hatched from these eggs. This crystal matrix is called the Mechagony."

"I never heard of it. Why would Nabaat want it?"

Cid frowned. "The Mechagony's matrix was said to be intimately connected with the energy that powered the fal'Cie, though that passage was rather vague and flowery. Jihl indicated it had something to do with her Focus, but I don't know what. I wouldn't worry about it."

"And this sword is somehow connected to it," Hope said, sounding sleepy. "It's interesting that Gilgamesh had it, though. Makes me wonder about the Eidolons even more." Hope set down the blade, then laid his head on Cid's shoulder again. The simple gesture seemed to ease Cid's concerns. "He came to save you from despair, just like Alexander did me. Don't forget that."

As Hope drifted off to sleep, Cid reflected that Gilgamesh was not the only one who rescued him from despair-- the aptly-named youth lying in his arms had just as much to do with it.

 

. . .

 

As Hope paused to pick fruit from one of the low-hanging tree branches, Cid walked a bit further, too restless to pick their dinner. Soon, he could no longer hear the tree branches rustle as Hope yanked their fruit off. After a few minutes of walking, Cid reached a small clearing, and found himself face-to-face with Lightning.

Five years had not changed Lightning much. Her pink hair had darkened, and she bore a long, vicious scar that ran across the entire length of her bared arm. She no longer wore her military uniform, but a more practical green and brown outfit. She was otherwise unchanged. Her eyes went wide when she saw Cid--an expression likely mirrored on his own.

"What in the hell?" she cried, and whipped out her gunblade. Slower than he remembered, but then, she had lost her l'Cie reflexes.

Cid took a step backward. This was going to take a lot of explaining, and Lightning did not appear to be in a receptive mood for explanations. She appeared more in the mood to cut him to ribbons.

"You bastard. You're still alive," Lightning swung her weapon so fast that it sliced through Cid's cloak. Even without l'Cie reflexes, she was deadly quick.

"I'm not your enemy," Cid ground out. He did not unsheathe Excalibur, for fear he might hurt Lightning. He had a suspicion that Hope would never forgive him.

"Like I'm going to buy into your lies again!"

Cid twisted around and dashed back through the trees. He could hear Lightning behind him, her booted feet pounding the dirt. As he raced past trees, he nearly knocked Hope over.

"Wh-what's going on?" Hope asked, spilling a few sunfruits onto the ground. "A predator?"

"You could say that," Cid said, just as Lightning burst into view.

Hope stared at her with wide eyes. His hands trembled, and the rest of the sunfruit spilled to the ground, rolling off in several different directions. Lightning panted and stared back. As quickly as she had raged upon meeting Cid, something akin to heartbreak spread across her face when she saw Hope. She held out a hand to him.

"Hope," she said in a gentle voice that seemed entirely unlike her. "You're alive." She smiled, another rare expression, and her eyes shone with unshed tears. "How…?"

Hope, however, was not able to withhold his tears. One slipped down his cheek as he turned from her. He grabbed Cid's arm. "Run. Just run, as fast as you can."

"What?" Cid asked.

"Do it!" Hope cried, and bolted through the trees, away from Lightning.

Lightning gasped. "Hope!" she cried, her brows knitting together. "Come back!"

Cid glanced at her apologetically, then ran after Hope. After a few moments, he caught sight of silver hair whipping about. He followed Hope through the trees, dashing and weaving. Behind him, he heard Lightning giving chase. She cried Hope's name but he did not answer. Branches and underbrush rustled as they moved, and tree climbers scurried to the top of their arboreal homes. Cid's chest burned and his thighs ached as he ran, but he did not stop, in fear he might lose Hope, too.

Lightning's human body inevitably gave out, and Cid could no longer hear her calling for Hope. Soon, the sound of running and rustling bushes ceased behind him. After what seemed like an hour, Hope collapsed to the ground. Their l'Cie speed had apparently left Lightning far behind, though Cid wondered if she would find their trail and catch up. Cid bent down beside Hope, panting from his exertions, and examined the boy.

Hope wiped at his eyes. "Don't look at me," he snapped, and turned away.

Cid did as he was told and sat back-to-back against Hope. None of this made any sense. Lightning had obviously been pleased to see Hope. Why would he run from her? Did he not care about his former friends any longer? Cid could not fathom it. If the Cavalry still existed, Cid would have eagerly rejoined them, if they would have taken him.

After a few minutes, Hope sniffled. "We should probably get going."

Cid leaned backwards until the back of his head touched Hope's. "Aren't you going to tell me why?"

"Why, what?" Hope asked.

"You know what."

Hope sighed and stood up. "You sure are nosy." He glanced down at Cid, his expression far too grim for someone so young. "It's complicated."

"I do, at times, fancy myself a tolerably intelligent man capable of understanding complexity."

Hope turned his face upwards. Dappled sunlight pouring through the tree canopy played over his face, making him seem an old man for just a moment. "They're all human. Before, we were all l'Cie together, or all human together. Our fates intertwined. Now, I'm a l'Cie, and they're human. The only thing I'll bring them is misery. And when I turn into a Cie'th, I'll endanger them. I can't be with them. And neither can you."

Cid hung his head. "I see."

"Let's just go."

Cid grabbed Hope's left wrist and peeled down the glove to reveal the l'Cie brand. The swirls and flourishes had grown more complex, and embedded in the center, the slit of a small red eye had appeared. Seeing the brand struck a chord of fear in Cid. At almost any moment, Hope could turn into a Cie'th, and Cid would be completely alone, abandoned in this strange world. It tore at him so deeply that he forced his thoughts away from the possibility. He glanced up to find that Hope was staring at the brand now.

"We don't have much time," Cid whispered.

"We covered a lot of ground just now. We're almost there. We'll be there by tomorrow, if we move fast and don't sleep," Hope said, turning his face south. Towards Asura.

Cid stood and dusted dirt and leaves from his clothing. "Then let's get going."

 

 _To be continued…_


	8. Meet Your Maker

The Feymarch Gates stood as impressive as Hope had described. The mountain range that enclosed the Maias Valley met on either side of the vast, metallic wall that barred passage to the ocean. Cid could hear the cry of birds and waves rolling against the shore. Even though the sunlight had waned by the time they approached, it glinted off the white metal bright enough to cause Cid to wince. Ribbons of red and gold stretched across the wall in ornate designs, reminding Cid of his new l'Cie brand.

"There it is," Hope said, apparently in the mood to comment upon the obvious. Cid cut back his sarcastic reply only because he knew Hope was still distraught.

Hope grew even tenser as they left the tree cover behind, and Cid did not blame him. It was here, before the Feymarch Gates, that Hope had died. Cid kept his hand on Excalibur and his gaze on the skies above, hoping to avoid any zirnitra foes. Though no zirnitra attacked, he and Hope soon realized they were not alone. At the top of the steps stood Jihl Nabaat, still wearing her impractical heeled boots.

"I wondered when you might show up again," Cid said, keeping his tone neutral, though his hand remained on Excalibur's hilt. Hope pulled out his boomerang and glared at her.

"And I had a feeling you two might show up here." Jihl took a few steps down, her heels clicking on the metal. She carried her baton in her hands and kept her gaze fixed on them.

"What do you want?"

"The same thing you want, Raines." Jihl slipped her black jacket off and turned around. When she swept her long blond hair over a shoulder, her low-backed blouse revealed the same intricate, swirled l'Cie brand on Cid and Hope.

"You're Asura's l'Cie, too. I thought so," Hope growled.

"You'd be a fool not to suspect," she said as she turned around. "Why are you here? If you had just done as I asked, and led me to the Mechagony, we'd all be sleeping in crystal right now."

"I've come to speak to Asura." Cid started walking up the steps again. "Either come with us or fuck off. I couldn't care less which you do."

Jihl glared at him, but when he passed her on the steps, she followed and slipped her jacket back on. "You're wasting your time. I already know our Focus."

"But do you know why we were given it?"

Jihl's silence answered his question, and Cid continued towards the entrance. The doors stood open, revealing a large red hall decorated in white and gold. The wall went deep, apparently. Cool air struck him in the face as he moved in. After the heat outside, he shivered. The lights burned strongly this time, revealing two stairs rising from either side of the hall.

Cid glanced back to find Hope glaring at Jihl fiercely. "I haven't forgotten what you did to Sazh and Vanille," Hope told her.

Jihl's expression remained neutral. "I would hope you'd also remember that we are, for the time being, on the same side."

Hope continued to glare.

Jihl glanced at Cid. "Look, since the two of you want an audience with Asura, fine. Good luck getting her to talk to you. I'll show you there, and you can beat your heads against the wall for an hour or so. Then we can move on to our Focus."

"Very well. Lead on."

Jihl's eyes flashed, as they always had when Cid gave her orders, but she led them up the stairs to the right. Hope followed warily, not letting go of his boomerang. Cid followed, keeping a tight enough grip on Excalibur that his hand ached. It was not just concern about Jihl that kept him tense, but the fal'Cie he intended to meet. After Bathandelus branded Cid as his l'Cie, Cid had been immediately sent away. This time, however, Cid would not give up. He would have his answers, even if he had to cut them from the fal'Cie's metal heart.

Within minutes, Jihl led them to the huge, intricately decorated doors that led into Asura's chamber. They slowly swung open as the group approached, as if beckoning them inside. Cid did not slow his walk, even when his stomach twisted with anxiety. This was the path he had chosen, and he would complete it.

What could only be Fenrir, the wolf-shaped Fal'Cie, greeted them with silence, then walked outside, his piston-like joints groaning with use. Cid stared as he passed Fenrir, amazed by the sheer size and odd beauty to his mechanical form. His lupine nature reminded Cid of Gilgamesh, but the similarities ended there. Gilgamesh offered salvation, but Fenrir damnation.

As impressive as Fenrir was, when Cid entered Asura's chamber, he could not contain his gasp of awe. Asura extended from the back, her six arms all locked into wall sockets, as if a woman suspended in chains. Her crystalline abdomen shone with fal'Cie power. Her head bore three faces, one in red, one in gold, and one in white. The sound of gears ground as her head spun, soon revealing a red face bearing a grotesque scowl.

"My l'Cie have returned to me," she said, her voice echoing with the power of machinery.

Jihl gaped. "She actually spoke this time," she murmured.

"We come with questions," Cid said when he recovered his powers of speech. Beside him Hope remained silent, gripping his boomerang so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"Of course you do. But if you seek answers, you must defeat me to face Leviathan, the Lord of All Waters. Only he may answer your questions. I am forbidden."

"And you can't break that rule?" Cid asked.

"No more than you can remove the burden of your Focus. We are no more free than you." Asura's head spun again to reveal the white face, peaceful and lovely as any human woman's, for all that it had been molded from metal. "Fight well, l'Cie."

"What, already?" Hope cried.

"She's buffing!" Jihl warned, and Cid realized she was right. The unmistakable glow of Haste, Shell, and Protect popped off in quick succession. Others followed, quicker than he could keep up with as he brandished his blade.

"Well, two can play that game!" Hope cried, and the same barrage of synergetic magic descended on Cid, Jihl, and Hope himself.

Asura was quicker however, and her head spun to reveal her red, angry face. Within moments, her long arms swung from their wall sockets and towards the group. Her hands extended into vicious claws seeking flesh and bone to rend and break. Cid dodged to the side without thinking, taking Hope with him. Jihl jumped over the swinging arms with the agility Cid recalled from their academy days--an agility he had often struggled to overtake and rarely succeeded. Only Lightning had ever seemed faster than her.

"It's okay," Hope whispered, moving back. "I'll keep on the defensive. Strike back." He swung his hand to cast another spell.

Once the fervor of Brave descended on Cid, he wasted no time in dashing towards Asura, Excalibur in hand. Her arms flashed towards him, and Cid immediately had to duck and dodge, feeling as if he were dancing to a very deadly beat. He wondered if his parents would be proud of him now, for he had finally learned to keep to a rhythm--the rhythm of staying alive.

"We need to bring her to a Stagger!" Jihl cried to his left.

Cid watched Jihl cast a succession of spells in every element: Fire, Thunder, Water, Lightning, and Aero. As methodical as ever, Jihl obviously sought to find the most effective spell. But Asura's crystal abdomen simply drew each one in and absorbed it.

"Dammit!"

"Can you cast enfeebling magic?" Cid asked, leaping out of the way of another attack. The sharp end of Asura's claws sliced through his side, but Hope's Cure spell quickly cooled the pain. "I'll lock in with physical attacks."

"That I can do," Jihl said, looking quite determined as she shifted her stance.

Cid glanced back, relieved to find Hope still standing. His healing spells struggled to keep abreast of their wounds, but he appeared to be in no immediate danger. Cid rushed forward again, using Excalibur to carve his way past Asura's six whip-like arms. Her claws bit into his flesh, but Hope's healing magic soothed the blows. Cid gasped with effort by the time he reached Asura's body and thrust into her with Excalibur. His blade wrenched through her metallic exterior, leaving grotesque gashes across her frame.

There was a terrible metal creak, and Cid drew back as Asura's body began to shake. Her head spun until the golden face smiled down at him, smooth and genderless. The damage he had wrought quickly reversed itself. Apparently, Asura was capable of healing herself.

"Fuck," Cid said, bereft of all eloquence.

"We're going to have to speed this up!" Hope cried out from the back.

As Asura's head spun to reveal her white face again, Cid jumped clear, back to Jihl, who still struggled to avoid Asura's claws and cast her enfeebling magic. "Nabaat," he said, hacking an arm away from her. "What works?"

Jihl glared at him. "Works? Only half of my spells. And it's damn hard to pop these spells off when she--" Jihl and Cid took another blow, and Hope's magic strained to heal them. Blood dripped onto the floor, and the sting remained until Hope cast another Cura on them. Asura's face was now red. "--when she keeps doing that!"

"Fair enough. Look, I'll try to keep her focused on me. Get as many debuffs on her as you can. When you're ready, we'll both slam into her with attacks and Ruin spells."

Jihl tossed her head back. "You're not in char--" Asura swiped at them again, but Cid blocked it by shifting into a defensive stance. "Fine." She held up her baton and started firing debuffing spells towards Asura.

"Over here!" Cid cried and marched towards Asura, weaving between her arms. "Who the hell do you think you are, Madam? At least the other fal'Cie had the decency to choose from the living. You robbed us of our freedom, but worse, you robbed us of our mortality. You had no right!"

Asura's arms swung towards him, and Cid bore the attack. Playing Sentinel always meant a great deal of pain, but a pain that allowed them all to survive. The more he took her blows and shored up his endurance with Steelguard, the closer they came to survival. He focused his gaze on her crystal abdomen and tried to forget the pain as her claws raked into him. Hope's spells provided a blue comfort warring against red agony.

"Done!" Jihl cried, triumphant.

Cid smiled and raced forward, dodging Asura's attacks again and slicing at her arms with Excalibur. Hope's healing magic chased after him, washing away the pain of his guarding. He was reminded of his academy days, with Jihl and Yaag at his side as they faced off against some behemoth, armed with weapons and Manadrives. But here, it was he, Jihl, and Hope, armed with l'Cie magic.

Excalibur cut into Asura's body, the metal screeching in protest. With aid of Hope's Haste spell, Cid struck Asura, over and over, determined to cut his way towards an answer as to why--why he had been chosen and for what reason. He needed to understand his fate before succumbing to it.

Asura screeched and her head began to spin again, moving towards the golden face that would erase their progress. "To hell with that," Cid quipped and jabbed his blade into her neck seam, freezing her head midway between faces. Her body creaked and groaned, and then a high-pitched metal screech filled the room. Smoke spewed from her neck, and her arms wrenched about aimlessly. Cid staggered back, weaponless.

"Out of the way, Raines," Jihl ordered.

Cid glanced back to see Jihl and Hope, standing side by side, both in a spellcasting stance, their gazes fixed firmly on Asura. He moved to the side just as both cast Ruinga. The spells merged to create an immense and deadly magical sphere that exploded over Asura's body. The screeching stopped, and Asura's arms dropped to the ground, lifeless.

"I'm surprised you even helped us," Hope said, spinning around to glare at Jihl the moment Asura fell still.

"Why? Did you think I enjoyed becoming a Pulse l'Cie?" she snapped. She took her glasses off and wiped the grit from them. By the time she put them back on, she had composed her expression back to her usual cool bemusement. "It's not like killing her changes anything."

Cid wrenched Excalibur free from Asura's neck seam, relieved to find the blade unscratched. A truly remarkable weapon. He moved to Hope's side and sheathed his blade. "You fought well." He glanced at Jihl. "We all did."

Jihl smirked. "I always fight well, Raines. Did you forget our academy days so soon?"

"Academy days? You went to the academy with her?" Hope asked in an incredulous tone.

Before Cid could respond, a rumbling sound filled the room. He glanced at Asura, and to his horror, she had swiveled her head to face them with her smiling golden face. Her damage started to reverse itself, but rather than attack them, she slowly swung her arms back up into their wall sockets. Her entire body creaked and groaned, and her crystal shone brighter than ever.

"Well done, l'Cie. Now you may face my master, Leviathan."

Asura's body suddenly split apart. She and the wall she was fixed to slid away to reveal a moonlit beach cradled between rocky cliffs. Beyond, a vast ocean spread out across the horizon. Its rolling waves crashed against the shore, and the moon reflected off the water.

Without speaking, or even knowing what to say, Cid stepped out onto the beach to greet the ocean with sword in hand.

 

 _To be continued…_


	9. Hellmouth

"It seems to stretch out forever," Hope observed. Cid nodded in agreement as he surveyed the endless ocean that stretched out in front of him. He considered beating his sword against the water in frustration, and only his dignity allowed him to refrain.

Jihl, however, did not seem impressed by the size of Pulse's ocean. "Where is Leviathan?"

Cid glanced back at her. "So eager to meet another fal'Cie?"

"Not especially." Jihl's glasses reflected the moonlight. "But she gave the impression it would be here. You're the one leading us on a wild chocobo chase when we should be performing our Focus."

"Oh, now you want to serve Pulse fal'Cie?" Hope asked. "You're just happy to serve any fal'Cie, aren't you?"

Jihl's nostrils flared, and she glared at Hope. "I simply have no choice if I want to avoid turning into a Cie'th."

"We made our own damn choices when we were Pulse l'Cie!" Hope took a step towards her, his expression as dark as the night sky. "But you treated us like diseased rats in a maze! The way you used Dajh against his own father was monstrous. How do you like being one of us now?"

Jihl's expression took on an air of boredom. Cid knew that expression well from the few occasions she had not merited top marks in the academy.

Noticing the red coloring on Hope's neck and the taut way he held his body, Cid put a hand on Hope's shoulder before the boy flew at her in a rage. He fixed his gaze on Jihl. "If you want to go complete your Focus so badly, then go do it."

"I can't, not until you tell me where that damn Mechagony is," Jihl hissed. "I spent months searching the ruins of Cocoon for some scrap of information on it. But you're the only living person left who knows. Primarch Dysley must have told you." She spoke his name as if it were a curse, a complete reversal of the overly deferential attitude that she had once displayed towards him. "You were his l'Cie. You have to know."

"We didn't talk much, believe it or not. And even if I did, how would it connect to your Focus?"

"Our Focus, you mean. And why should I tell you? You wanted to get the information from the fal'Cie." Jihl crossed her arms. "Good luck with that."

"And what fal'Cie am I--" Cid began, until he realized Hope tugged on his sleeve. He glanced down at Hope in question, but the youth only pointed towards the ocean in answer.

Cid turned around to find that a glass bridge had emerged from the ocean's surface, leading into a small glass structure. Water still dripped from the top of the structure, and it glittered under the night sky.

"Apparently Leviathan is ready to hold his audience," Jihl said, smugly enough that Cid considered dragging her to meet the fal'Cie by her hair.

Hope glanced up at Cid, clearly waiting to see what he would do.

"Well, who am I to keep the bloody Lord of All Waters waiting?" Cid stepped onto the bridge and glanced back at Hope. "Let's go get our answers, then."

Hope nodded and followed Cid. After a moment, Jihl followed as well, her heels clicking loudly over glass. The room appeared empty and innocuous. The three of them stepped inside.

"So, what's the--whoa!" Hope cried as the doors suddenly shut and the room shot downwards, traveling through the water itself. "It's like some kind of elevator."

At first, all was dark as the glass elevator traveled deeper and further into the ocean. Lights flickered on around the corners and seams of the elevator, which rendered the ocean outside dark and unfathomable. Cid imagined that this was what it was like to travel above the sky, where only dark space and nothingness existed. As he glanced at the reflective walls around him, his skin prickled with unnamed fear. Who knew what lurked beyond this glass in the seemingly endless ocean water?

Hope moved closer to him, and Cid wondered if he felt that same inescapable fear. Even Jihl took a step closer to them, her wide-eyed gaze darting about the elevator's walls. Cid put an arm around Hope, but did not speak. He did not trust his voice not to quaver. If anything caused the glass to crack, they would all instantly drown--if the weight of the ocean water did not crush them first.

"Oh," Jihl said, blinking at the floor.

Cid glanced down and noticed he could see a glimmer of light beneath them. The elevator shot closer towards the light, which soon outshone the elevator's own lights. Hope touched Cid's arm as he glanced down, his fingers warm. Cid's anxiety eased a bit.

The ocean lights soon revealed a hulking, snake-like structure built from some dark metal. Cid repressed a shudder when he realized it looked like an ancient sea serpent from a storybook his mother had given him as a child. Metal claws dug firmly into the sea floor, and schools of fish swam around it as if it were a reef. The eyes gleamed, jewels set alight, and the creature stirred. Before Cid could even gasp in surprise, the beast opened its fanged mouth and swallowed them whole.

Darkness fell upon them again, and Jihl gave a soft gasp. The elevator shook, leaving them all clutching the walls for balance, then came to an abrupt stop in a huge circular room. Blue light emitting from a rather large fal'Cie crystal glittered off iridescent metal walls, giving the impression of water even though there were no windows. As soon as the door opened, Jihl hurried off. She breathed deeply and kept fiddling with her hair. Cid realized she looked pale.

Then he recalled the incident at the academy when he and Yaag had argued fiercely enough that he had accidentally broken their lift's controls, leaving them stuck inside for over an hour. Jihl had curled up in a corner by the time help arrived, and she had refused to speak to them for over a week afterwards. Cid thought she had been overreacting for show, but now as he watched her absently tug on her hair and gasp for breath, he wondered if she might genuinely be claustrophobic.

Fortunately, the chamber they stepped into was wide and spacious. The fal'Cie Crystal rose from a pool of ocean water that reached their ankles. Yet, the air was perfectly breathable, even if a bit chilled.

"Welcome, l'Cie," spoke an odd voice, emitting from the crystal. The blue light shimmered with each syllable.

"Who are you?" Cid asked, looking around, but the iridescent walls gave no sign of a fal'Cie--or were they actually inside Leviathan? Cid found that thought unsettling.

A snake covered in iridescent scales unwound from the fal'Cie crystal. It rose with reptilian grace, standing several feet high. Its eyes burned blue as it studied them. "I am Leviathan, the Lord of All Waters."

Hope took a step back from him, splashing water as he moved, his eyes wide. "A fal'Cie illusion," Cid told Hope, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Like Dysley, only uglier." Jihl ground her teeth at the mention of Dysley's name.

Leviathan tilted his head, his scales glittering under the crystal's light. "I have been waiting for you. Fenrir was to find you. Asura was to awaken you. And now you are here."

"Why were you waiting for us?" Jihl asked.

"Because I needed you." Leviathan opened his mouth, revealing wicked fangs. "You are Asura's l'Cie, but I am Asura's master. The Focus she gave you is the one I commanded her to."

"And why would you need us?" Hope demanded. "We were dead."

"But you are all powerful, and all three of you hate the fal'Cie." Leviathan's gaze flicked between the three of them, as sharp as his teeth. "For your own reasons, of course."

Cid stepped forward. "And why should that matter?"

"It will help you complete your Focus."

"What do you want?"

Leviathan leaned forward and breathed on Cid. Cid jerked back, his brow stinging with an unnatural cold. He heard Hope crying out his name as he fell to his knees. Reality spun around him and was soon replaced by a vision.

Memories surfaced like bloated corpses in a river, and he could see Barthandelus waking him from crystal and smiling, a smile that somehow put thoughts into his head not his own. He saw himself taking vows as Primarch, preparing for the l'Cie to return and end Cocoon, as if watching a puppet dance on its strings. He waited, waited so long, to end it, and when Rygdea shot him, it was mercy, not murder. It was an act of autonomy, the puppet begging to be burned rather than left to dance to the tune of its master.

But that was not all he remembered. He saw himself waking before Asura, who stared down at him with crystal eyes. Her arms seemed chained to the wall when restrained by their wall sockets--her own mechanical puppet strings. "Remember your Focus when the time is right. Only then," she murmured, as his mother once murmured at him when she would stroke his fevered brow at night. She teleported him then, into the Haerii Archaeopolis, to await Jihl's arrival.

"You see it now, yes?" Leviathan asked. "Your mind was so unclear and unfocused. But you can see your Focus?"

Cid could not see it, though. He could remember everything but that, every painful moment imprisoned within his own mind by Barthandelus, every ounce of his gratitude to Rygdea for killing him, every ache as his body came back to life before Asura, but nothing of his Focus. Cid blinked and said nothing. Something inside of him told him to keep his mouth shut.

Jihl crossed her arms. "I already knew."

"Your sight is clear." Leviathan said in a voice more befitting a cat than a snake. "But he needed to see for himself. Only he knows where the Mechagony is."

"But why?" Cid asked.

"Why?" Leviathan stared at Cid, and if he had a human face, Cid would have imagined him drawing his brows together.

"Why? Why any of it? Why are we doing this?"

"To destroy the fal'Cie. You will have your revenge. And we will have our peace. When we all die, the Maker surely cannot ignore all of us. But as you know, we cannot kill ourselves. So, instead, we ask you to destroy the matrix of the Mechagony, which will destroy us."

"The Maker. That's all you mechanical fanatics ever talk about," Hope snapped.

Leviathan turned back to face his fal'Cie Crystal. "We are born with a single purpose, and thus have singular desires." He glanced back. "Asura has worn you out, and your journey has been troublesome. There is still time before the end. Please, head to the back. You will find food and lodging there, comfortable enough for human beings."

With that, he winked out existence, as if never there. The pool of water did not even ripple in his absence.

 

 _To be continued…_


	10. From Hell's Heart...

If nothing else, Leviathan proved to be a generous host. They found a circular room with three doors and a table bearing a huge feast. Cid quickly filled a plate and sat down, eager to sup on food he had not eaten in years. He found all of his favorites: steamed breshan bass, pasta smothered with a white sauce and tender specter mushrooms, buttered greenbread, and flandragora cream pudding, each cooked to perfection. Being a man who favored dessert first, Cid ate half of his sweet cream pudding before he realized he was the only one eating.

"Are you sure we should eat this?" Hope asked, looking somewhat horrified.

Jihl crossed her arms. "This is a dinner table set by a Pulse fal'Cie. Just because we're bound to complete their Focus doesn't mean we should eat at their table."

Cid set his spoon down and considered the meal set before him. He found a bottle of mooncherry wine and poured two glasses. Though most military officers disdained such a cheap wine, Cid favored its sweet taste. His parents had always kept a bottle in their house. Cid kept one glass and handed the other to Hope. "Leviathan wants us to complete our Focus. I'm sure it's safe."

Hope scowled, but sat down and stared at the food. "I suppose it's no worse than Carbuncle's food. He wanted us dead as much as the others did."

"That's the spirit," Cid drawled, and sipped at his wine. As sweet and cloying as ever, tasting just as it had when his mother would pour drinks after a successful performance.

Jihl opened the doors around the dining room and peered into each. "Bedrooms. Does he mean for us to sleep here?"

"I suppose so."

Jihl looked rather pale as stared at a large window, which offered a view into the vast oceanic world outside. "How can we sleep when we're surrounded by all this water?"

Even Hope noticed the quaver in her voice. He studied her. "Are you all right?" He sounded as if it pained him to ask, yet he did.

"All right?" Jihl glanced back at Hope with her trademarked bored expression. "Why shouldn't I be all right? Our Focus is to destroy every Pulse fal'Cie in existence. I'm only irritated that we're here, and not out looking for the Mechagony. I never thought a Pulse fal'Cie would provide me such an agreeable Focus."

"Yes, quite agreeable, isn't he?" Cid asked.

Hope turned to study Cid. "What do you mean?"

"Don't worry about it." Cid continued to eat. He could not afford to voice his doubts, not here. The walls did not just have ears--they may very well be ears, considering everything they saw was part of a Leviathan's body.

"But--"

"Later. I promise." Cid nodded at Hope and continued to eat. He had to admit, he missed the ease and taste behind fal'Cie-made food. As good as Hope's stew tasted to a hungry man, it could not compare to a gourmet meal. And it certainly surpassed Cid's own bland and undercooked attempts at making dinner. This was a meal created by fal'Cie standards. Cid was a man of Cocoon, used to being coddled and cared for by the fal'Cie, living by their standards. Being inside Leviathan felt like returning home.

A little too much like home--a home designed for mass murder and sacrifice. Only now the sacrifice would be the fal'Cie. But how could that be any better?

 

. . .

 

The look on Hope's face when Cid struck the sweet spot inside of him was exquisite. His expression tightened in surprised, then relaxed in pleasure. Cid bucked his hips, making sure to hit that spot again and again as he moved, intoxicated by his newfound sense of control. Hope gave a small gasp and wrapped his thighs around Cid's hips, leaving Cid hissing in pleasure.

Cid gripped Hope's cock tightly, eliciting another gasp from Hope. Every inch of his being felt electrified, as if someone had upped the energy level of his own body. Hope was almost unbearably hot and tight around his cock, but in the best possible way. Cid's body ached for release, but he fought the urge, wanting to drag out the pleasure as long as possible. He stroked Hope's cock and rocked into the boy, hoping to make Hope feel as good as he did. He watched the passing expressions on Hope's face, the red-faced ecstasy mingled with the hesitation of inexperience, and even the wince of occasional pain. Awareness of any reality outside of Hope quickly faded. Nothing else mattered, except for the beautiful boy beneath him.

It was not the building intensity or even some wicked movement of Hope's thighs that brought Cid over the edge. It was the simple gesture of Hope placing a hand on Cid's chest. It was the sound of Hope moaning, ever so softly, in short little gasps. Cid's heart raced, and he came. Pleasure burst across his lower body, but Hope still had not come. He stroked Hope's cock and continued to thrust into Hope, even as he softened. The youth came in moments, twisting half to the side and covering his face with a hand. Cid pulled Hope's hand away to watch as Hope's eyelids rapidly fluttered in pleasure. The boy parted his lips, gasping quietly. An expression of vulnerability. An expression just for Cid.

After a few moments, Hope shivered and glanced up at Cid. Cid smiled and bent down to kiss him. He had almost never kissed his lovers before, but with Hope it seemed natural. His life, difficult as it was, had not hardened him. He remained open and full of passion, willing to share emotion. Cid had never known anyone like that before.

Hope kissed back, tasting like the mooncherry wine they had drunk at dinner.

 

. . .

 

When Cid headed out of his bedroom later, Jihl stood by one of the windows, her arms wrapped around herself, as pale as ever. Cid poured himself a glass of water and went to stand beside her. Jihl glanced at him, then returned to staring out at the ocean bed. In the distance, schools of fish scattered as a large predator flashed through the water at them.

"Does staring out at it help?" he asked.

Jihl scowled. "What do you care?"

Cid leaned against the wall and sipped at his water. "At one time, I thought we were all friends. Study Unit 57-B. You, me, and Yaag. The three top graduates, all vying for the same position. You won, and we lost. But in the end, all three of us lost, didn't we?"

"I haven't seen Rosch, if that's what you're asking." Jihl glanced at Cid's closed bedroom door. "I could hear you two, you know. Did you tell him about you and Rosch?"

"I fail to see why it would matter. That was over by the time we left the academy."

"Heh. You never were very good at keeping it in your pants, were you, Raines?" Jihl shook her head, sending ripples through her long mane of hair.

Cid shrugged and smiled a little. "I may have been promiscuous in my youth. But you were never interested much in that. For you, it was always about your studies, and then later, your work. You followed every Sanctum rule. You went above the call of duty for the Sanctum. You even enjoyed your job. How do you like how it turned out?"

Jihl's eyes flashed, and she turned to glare at Cid. "Are you trying to make me angry, Raines?"

"No. It's a genuine question."

Jihl turned back to the window. The lighting reflected off her glasses, obscuring her eyes. "I had devoted my life to him. Every inch of me belonged to him, to PSICOM, to the Sanctum. I didn't care about anyone or anything else. And I was repaid with death. And not even a death in the line of duty--a death that meant nothing."

Cid studied his glass of water before taking a sip. "You found out you were a mere inconvenience, and Dysley a liar."

Jihl only stared out at the ocean.

"I don't feel sorry for you, you know. And some others would go even further, to say that you deserved no less."

"I know what they think," Jihl spat.

"Yes, well, even if you did deserve it, I think you've paid your debt in full." Cid walked back to the table and set his empty cup down. "Get some sleep, Jihl, if you can. I doubt we'll drown in our sleep, and it's not as small as you imagine. I think Leviathan might actually be bigger than Titan."

When Cid headed back to his room, he realized Hope stood at the door, wrapped in a sheet. The youth watched Jihl with a thoughtful expression on his face. Cid touched his shoulder and gently pulled him back inside the room, leaving Jihl to face her fears as she had always preferred it: alone.

 

 _To be continued…_


	11. This Mortal Coil

In the morning, Leviathan provided bathing facilities and fresh clothing. Cid availed himself of both. His new clothing was silver and blue and remarkably similar to his previous outfit. He suspected Leviathan's fashion sense one of imitation. When Hope stepped out, wearing a gold and green outfit similar to what he worn on arrival, Cid felt his suspicion confirmed.

Jihl seemed to be wearing the same black and red outfit. Cid wondered if she had refused Leviathan's clothing. It amused him to think so. Jihl had the oddest quirks: when bound to a Pulse fal'Cie's Focus, she would do whatever necessary to complete it, but she would not eat their food nor wear their clothing. Cid considered whispering this to Hope, but wondered if the youth would appreciate the humor. He did not seem to care for Jihl at all.

After breakfast--which Jihl abstained from, and Hope only ate sparingly--Leviathan beckoned them into his crystal chamber. Cid stepped into the crystal chamber, still brushing crumbs from his hands. Unlike his companions, he had eaten well, since he suspected it would be his last decent meal.

A warp gate shimmered by the crystal. Leviathan rose at their entrance, a snake waiting to strike. "If you tell me the general location of the Mechagony, this gate will take you to it." His eyes gleamed in the light of his own crystal.

Both Jihl and Hope glanced at Cid. Cid sighed and remembered those ancient tomes he had pored over, desperate to find the secret of the fal'Cie. Nothing in those books had helped him escape being forced into l'Cie servitude. He had never thought that tiny piece of information on an obscure location, buried deep in Eden's forbidden texts, would offer him the secret he had once craved.

"Adamant Isle. I only know the name."

"But we searched--"

"The text said that this sword could reveal the way." Cid held up Excalibur, which gleamed under the crystal light. "The blade of the man who hid it in the first place."

Leviathan's reptilian face somehow managed to look perplexed, despite its lack of human expression. "Very well. Take your revenge upon us for your fates, l'Cie. Avenge the loss of your home. Destroy the matrix of the Mechagony." The warp gate glowed for a moment, then shimmered to reveal a green island lying in the middle of the ocean.

Cid considered Leviathan's crystal. He ignored the image of the iridescent snake--that was no more Leviathan that Dysley had truly been Barthandelus. The illusion annoyed him. "Is it truly so unbearable to you? That you would rather die to join the Maker than live independently?"

"Was it not unbearable that all of you lost Cocoon and your fal'Cie caretakers?"

Jihl blanched, but Hope started walking towards the warp gate. "Yeah," he said. "But we got over it."

Cid smirked and headed to the warp gate, blade in hand. "My sentiments exactly."

As with the Cie'th Waystones, Cid resented the magic of the warp gate feeding his body through space on a strong of energy and reconstructing him on the other side. It sent cold chills throughout his entire being, and left him regretting eating so much breakfast. He gripped his stomach and breathed deeply until his stomach settled.

Jihl stepped out across the grass, leaving heel marks in the dirt. She took a deep breath and straightened her clothing, unable mask her relief to be out in open air.

"Storm's coming," Hope said, staring up.

Cid glanced up as well. Dark storm clouds gathered in the sky. The warm air felt humid and heavy, even more oppressive than that of Maias Valley. Cid wondered if they were even further south.

"I see nothing," Jihl called. "Just a small island covered in grass. Is the Mechagony hidden underground?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" Jihl spun around. "This is the right place, isn't it?"

Cid sighed and glanced between Hope and Jihl. One face receptive, the other hostile. "Listen. Doesn't this seem a little too pat to you? The fal'Cie want to die, so they send us to destroy the Mechagony's matrix for them? They can't kill us, so they'll have us kill them? Doesn't anyone want to think about the consequences?"

"Consequences? Of destroying Pulse fal'Cie?" Jihl actually looked angry. Cid did not know whether he should be proud of this feat or not. "The only consequences I see are that the Cocoon survivors live in peace, and the three of us can sleep in crystal instead of live as monsters!"

"You were already a monster," Hope snapped, glaring at her. "A monster who never cared about anyone but herself! Just like a damn fal'Cie, always concerned with you!"

Jihl's expression cooled, and she gave Hope her most withering glance. She must be truly angry now. She had not given anyone such a look since Cid had accused her of cheating while they were still in the academy--he had been wrong then, though he did not think Hope was wrong now.

"And we'll be monsters sleeping in crystal. Killing them doesn't seem any better than killing ourselves. And what of Pulse? What of our new world?" Cid gestured around the island with his blade for emphasis. "You said so yourself when we saw Titan, Jihl. You said the fal'Cie terraform, and he preserves the balance of the animals. They maintain Pulse. Who's going to do that when they're gone?"

Hope tilted his head and considered Cid. Jihl did not look at him.

"They're cowards, Jihl. Cowards who can't handle the thought of living in a world bereft of divine grace. So they wish to abandon all their responsibilities and leave." Cid followed his own thoughts, surprised where they led him. "Like children, they need someone to hold their hands through life, to offer them shelter, rules, meaning, all because they are too afraid to do it themselves. They fear a Maker-less world, as we once feared Pulse."

"It's like a circle," Hope said, his eyes wide in understanding. "The Maker treated them as they treat us. We feel about them like they feel about the Maker."

"Exactly." Cid nodded. "And our fears were unfounded, just as theirs were. Pulse is nothing like they said, and I, for one, think we do just fine on our own. Perhaps our food is not as tasty and our beds not as comfortable, but we have everything we need right here, in this world. And we can make it better, once we learn how. I say fuck their Maker, and fuck them. I'm not destroying the Mechagony's matrix."

Hope grinned, but the expression quickly faded. "But we'll become Cie'th."

"Then let's do it here, far away from everyone. I refuse my Focus."

"How noble," Jihl spat. She glared at them both, her eyes as fierce as a behemoth's. "So selfless, so generous. Sacrifice yourselves to protect the world. Well, I don't buy it! I don't care about this world. I don't care about their Maker. And if they want to die, I'm happy to pull their plug. They can join their Maker. I just want to be done with them!" Her face reddened, and her eyes shone, despite the lack of sunlight. Cid had not seen Jihl this emotional since she had left the headmaster's office after proving, once and for all, that she had never cheated.

"That's selfish!" Hope cried. "It's always about you! You really are just like the fal'Cie. You want to be cared for and live like a pet. You don't care how many people die or get hurt--you just want to make yourself feel better."

"Shut up!" Jihl screamed. "Just shut up! You don't know anything about me, little boy!" She jerked forward, as if pushed, but continued her rant. "You don't know how I lived, what made me who I am. At least back on Cocoon, the world made sense! It gave me meaning and purpose. All I have now is a Focus, and I'll complete it over your dead bodies, if I have to!"

"So make your own meaning and purpose!" Cid shouted.

Jihl fell to her knees, her face twisted in obvious pain. Her back started to glow with an eerie violet light. "I don't know how. He took everything from me. He took it all away, and then he killed me," she said, her voice almost childish.

A violet seal appeared beneath her, its light shining up to the stormy heavens. As Jihl cried out in pain, a second seal emerged in the sky. The hair on Cid's body stood on end, and he backed up without thought. Beside him, Hope seemed to do the same. After a moment, a creature descended from the sky seal, all wings, and claws, and teeth. Its black and red metal gleamed. It spread its dark wings, then dove straight down for Jihl, its mouth opening to reveal rows of razor-like teeth.

Cid dashed forward without thinking as the beast swooped, and he held out Excalibur. It saw the blade and broke its descent, rising sharply back into the air. Jihl stared at Cid, blinking away what might have been tears--or perhaps nothing more than figments of Cid's imagination.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because we were friends once." Cid glanced up at the Eidolon. "You have to fight these things. They appear to save you from despair. But you have to earn the salvation. So decide quickly, Jihl. Do you want to die like a fal'Cie, or live like a human being?"

The Eidolon dove back, its dark wings rending the light itself. Cid held up Excalibur again, but the creature seemed braver. It held up a clawed hand, and a sphere of darkness spun into being. Cid ran, but the darkness descended upon him, too large to outrun. Unbearable pressure began to crush him, and he cried out in pain. Gravity itself had become his enemy, and when the Eidolon's metal tail slammed into his blade, he lost his grip. The blade sank into the earth, as if a stone dropped into a pool.

And then the weight lifted as a Poisonga slammed into the creature. Cid glanced back, pleased to see that standing behind him, as proud as ever, was the woman who had bested both him and Yaag at the academy. A woman determined to be the best, no matter what it meant--or who she had to crush beneath her stiletto heels. A woman he had briefly called friend as a youth: Jihl Nabaat.

The darkness evaporated, and the Eidolon turned its attention on Jihl. It screeched and dashed towards her, flying as if all hell flew behind it. Jihl jumped to the side and launched a Firaga at it. To Cid's surprise, Hope stood at her side, wielding his wicked-looking boomerang. He looked every bit as determined as she.

Cid stood to help them, but then the earth beneath his feet gave way. He slipped into a glowing hole with a shower of dirt and landed painfully on a pile of shattered crystal. It sliced his hands, his legs, his clothes. Excalibur clattered to the ground beside him. Above, he heard the din of battle.

And all around him, a vast grotto yawned around him, made of pure crystal, shining with light of unknown origin. The crystal matrix of the Mechagony shone like stars in the night. Cid stood, ignoring the pain of his cuts, and studied his surroundings. Crystal egg shells, shattered long ago when the fal'Cie emerged, littered the floor. The crystal walls reflected images of more fal'Cie than Cid could imagine. He saw Titan placing a behemoth onto the Archylte Steppe. Fenrir transporting the corpse of a chocobo and depositing it on barren land, where it quickly decomposed and left the soil fertile. Asura holding back the impossibly huge waves from washing over the land. Leviathan monitoring the tides and the creatures that lived in his ocean. A whale-like fal'Cie protecting a spring. An armored fal'Cie spinning through the earth, building tunnels. And others, so many others.

On the Mechagony's wall, the image of Asura leaned forward, her face golden, her deadly arms locked in place. "Remember your Focus only when the time is right. Only then," she murmured.

The din of the battle above grew distant, and the Mechagony thrummed with the song of Pulse itself. Its melody carried the sound of the ocean tides crashing against the shore, the sound of animals roaring and screeching, the sound of the earth rumbling, the sound of thunder rumbling. The fal'Cie were not simply the maintainers of Pulse. They were Pulse. They were the earth, in all its capriciousness, building and destroying. They were the beasts, hunting and begetting. They were the water, in all its myriad forms, potent and life-giving. As Cocoon could not survive without its fal'Cie, neither could Pulse. To destroy the fal'Cie would be to destroy Pulse itself.

Cid saw the Focus that Hope had described and more. He saw the Mechagony's crystal matrix exploding under the combined power of Gilgamesh, Alexander, and Diablos. He saw Asura's Feymarch Gates crumbling to dust, leaving all humanity exposed to a colossal tsunami that washed away the world. Leviathan wanted them all to die, fal'Cie and human, in his desperate attempt to pass through the Door of Souls and join his beloved Maker. But Asura did not. Nor did Fenrir. They had learned to live their lives, to make the best of it. They no longer required the Maker for happiness. They had found it elsewhere.

The Focus that Asura had given her three l'Cie had always been to protect the Mechagony, to defy Leviathan in the only way she could.

"Cid? Are you all right?"

Cid glanced up and realized Hope peered through the hole above. He looked concerned. Dirt streaked his face, but he looked otherwise unharmed. Beside him, Jihl stood, glancing down at Cid with her arms crossed.

"He's fine. He has the luck of a Pulse devil," Jihl said, scornfully.

"I'm just as pleased to see you survived, too."

Hope moved aside. "Alexander will help you up." A huge Eidolon leaned down, blocking the light from above. Its metallic arms were as big as pillars, and it resembled a walking fortress. Cid did not dare refuse such a creature, and climbed into its huge hand. Excalibur shone as Alexander lifted him from the aperture, and the ground sealed the moment Excalibur passed the surface. The isle's green field remained smooth and unblemished, as if Cid had never entered the Mechagony.

"And that's it?" Jihl asked.

"Does there need to be something else?" Cid tilted his head. "We save the world by not doing anything. If you really wish to punish the fal'Cie, let them live in a Maker-less world."

"Heh." Jihl smirked. "I think it's time to go." She headed over to the red and black monstrosity sitting on the island. "Diablos will take us."

"She thinks she's so special just because she has an Eidolon now." Hope rolled his eyes. "She was the last to get one, too."

"Well, she does have the only one with wings."

"Of the three of us. Bahamut had wings."

"Exactly my point." Cid headed towards Diablos. "We need to go to the Feymarch Gates."

Hope's brows furrowed. "Why?"

Cid smiled. "Because I think we should thank Asura. You two misinterpreted our Focus. Asura didn't want us to destroy the Mechagony. She wished for us to protect it."

"Are you sure?"

"You can ask her yourself." Cid nodded at Jihl. "Provided we get that ride to the Feymarch Gates."

Jihl sighed and straddled Diablos's long neck. "Just get on the damn Eidolon."

 

 _To be concluded…_


	12. The Resurrection

Fenrir led them straight into Asura's chamber without preamble. Asura appeared completely repaired when they entered. Her arms were locked in placed, and her head slowly spun to reveal her white face, as peaceful as ever.

"Well done, l'Cie."

"Really?" Jihl crossed her arms. "If Raines is correct, and we did fulfill our Focus by protecting the Mechagony, why are we not in crystal stasis?"

"That's actually a good question," Hope admitted, sounding grudging.

Asura leaned forward from the wall with the sound of groaning metal. "Protecting the Mechagony is not a one-time matter. Your duties are not unlike my own. They stretch over your lifespan. You are bound, for as long as you will live, to protect it. In exchange, I have given you back the lives stolen from each of you through violence."

"So, we're to live our entire lives as Pulse fal'Cie?" Jihl asked, not bothering to disguise her irritation.

"Just as you once would have lived your lives as humans, and as I will live my life as a fal'Cie. We are what we are. Live as you wish, within the parameters of your Focus." Asura pressed herself back against the wall with a hissing sound. "Can you live with what you have been given, as I, and many other fal'Cie, have chosen to live with what we have been given?"

"Yes," Cid said.

Hope hesitated, then nodded at Asura. "I suppose I can make do."

"Very well." Jihl said, and turned on her heel. She started walking out.

"Where are you going?" Cid asked.

Jihl glanced back at him. "Do not concern yourself with it. Besides, I'm sure we'll meet again. After all, we share a Focus."

Hope did not look thrilled with this prospect, but Cid smirked. "Is that a threat or a promise, Jihl?"

"Both, Raines." Jihl walked out, with the sound of her heels clicking on polished metal.

Cid turned to Asura and held out Excalibur. "Where did this blade come from? Why is it connected to the Mechagony? I don't understand that part."

But Asura said nothing. She remained still and silent, looking for all intents and purposes like a large fixture hanging upon her wall. Apparently, she no longer had anything to say.

Hope turned to Cid. "I guess we should leave."

"I think we should, too."

 

. . .

 

Cid and Hope emerged from Feymarch Gates, quiet but for the sound of their footsteps. Fenrir watched them as they left, sitting with his metal tail curled around his legs. Cid's thoughts and feelings seemed to run together, like colors merging into white. He could not say he was grateful to Asura, but neither was he particularly resentful. He was alive, and that would have to be enough for the moment.

Outside, standing on the steps, stood several familiar figures. Two pink-haired women, a large blond man, a dark-skinned older man, a young boy with a full head of hair, and a full-grown chocobo. Hope drew up short, looking ready to bolt, but Cid grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him forward. They stood there silently for a long moment, all studying each other.

It was Lightning who made the first move. She walked up the steps and held out a hand to Hope. She smiled, an expression that seemed odd on her usually serious face.

Hope stared at her hand, swallowing repeatedly. He said nothing, and he did not move.

"We're l'Cie again," Cid told them. "Both of us."

"We know. And we don't care," Snow said, punching a fist into his palm. He bored a fierce scar running down his cheek and neck. "Family sticks together."

"Vanille and Fang told us in a dream. They explained everything," said the pink-haired girl who could only be Serah. She resembled a smaller, softer version of Lightning. "So we came to get you. Both of you."

Sazh smirked and crossed his arms. "And don't you even think about running away again, Hope. We have Boco with us this time." He thumbed at the chocobo.

"And he runs way faster than l'Cie!" the boy added. Sazh's son Dajh, without a doubt.

Lightning still held out her hand. "I'm sorry, Hope. I know this was hard for you. But you're here, and that's all that matters. Don't leave us again. We're your family."

Hope glanced at Cid, then took Lightning's hand. He then took Cid's hand and pressed their three hands together. "I think, this time, we can live with it." He seemed earnest.

Lightning nodded at both Cid and Hope. "Welcome back to the land of the living. Both of you."

Cid nodded in return, then glanced back at the Feymarch Gates. The metal glinted brightly under the sun, dazzling Cid's eyes. Behind the Gates, he could hear the ocean lapping against the shore.

And beneath the Adamant Isle, the Mechagony still hummed with the song of Pulse.

 

 _End._


	13. Postmortem (Teaser Omake)

Yaag Rosch lay by a pool, gasping for air, though he had not been drowning. He had been dying, only moments ago, but now he lived. No blood covered him, no wounds gave him pain, and he seemed fully intact. He felt chilled as the water dripped from his naked body.

A metallic wolf's face peered down at him. "Rise, l'Cie. Asura wishes for an audience."

Yaag's mind spun. Moments ago, he had detonated a grenade when two behemoth kings approached him. Lightning and the others had just entered Edenhall. And Cocoon--what of Cocoon? He rose, and it was not until he had dried and dressed that he realized the metallic wolf that sat in the room was a fal'Cie. Its crystal burned in its chest, and its jeweled eyes offered him no pity.

And it had called him a l'Cie.

Feeling bile rise to his throat, Yaag searched his body. And there, on his stomach, a strange brand, like a tattoo. Its flourishes and swirls reminded Yaag of a brocaded blanket he had slept with as a boy. He could not repress a cry of horror. His innards twisted, and he covered his mouth as he tried to repress the urge to vomit. He had become a monster, somehow.

"Where am I?" Yaag demanded, his voice softer than he would have liked. "Who are you?"

"Follow. Asura will answer all she is permitted." The wolf-like fal'Cie exited the golden room, its metal tail swaying as it walked.

After a moment, Yaag followed, having nowhere else to go.


End file.
